A/N: Enjoy. Let me know your thoughts on it.
- Veritable Old Lady Crow
Tara Knowles had a question.
It was a question that had been running through her mind ever since she sat down in her second period English class.
Well, not exactly.
If one wanted to be technical the question didn't occur to Tara until Donna Lewis plopped down at the desk next to hers.
Donna hadn't even pulled the strap of her messenger bag off her shoulder good before she was staring Tara down, a look of reluctant curiosity in her gray-blue eyes.
Tara could feel Donna's eyes drilling a hole into the side of her face. When she finally gave in, glancing over in her direction, Donna wasted no time blurting out, "So I want to ask you something about Opie."
Donna said Opie.
But all Tara heard was Sarah.
"What about him?" Tara asked, looking over towards the classroom door.
Where the hell is Mrs. Braithwaite?
That lady was never late to class.
Donna was silent just a little too long. Tara looked back over towards her.
She regretted it immediately.
"How serious were things with Opie…and her?"
Right about now, Tara really wished she could afford a private tutor. This high school shit was so not worth the stress.
Sighing she offered Donna an apologetic smile. "Opie tells you everything. I think you know how serious they were…"
"I thought I did," Donna complained. "But that b—your best friend made it sound like it was more than just sex…like a real first everything…like they were in love or something…"
"I keep forgetting you're not originally from here." Tara sighed. "Look. We were all close when we were younger. Sarah and Opie were like me and Jax. It was just a childhood sweetheart kind of thing. Stickers and candy hearts. We grew out of it a long time ago."
Tara's eyes snapped from a spot on the blank, green chalkboard to Donna's face when she heard her groan.
"What?"
Donna shook her head. "If her and Ope are anything like you and Jax I have a really big problem."
Tara rolled her eyes. "And what the hell is that supposed to mean?"
"It means you two—"
"—you and Jax is the worst example you could have used to make her feel better," Wendy said from the side of Tara's desk.
Donna glared up at her. "Why is it that every time you're around I find myself sounding like a broken record? Once again, who the fuck asked you?"
"I guess my charm hasn't warmed you up to me yet," Wendy joked, sitting on top of Tara's desk. "So…you want to know the real deal between Opie and Princess Hale?" Wendy laughed when Donna's eyes narrowed to slits. "Hey, no need to get hostile with me Tinkerbelle. I'm just the messenger…or at least I could be if you ask me nicely."
And there was the question again.
Where in the mother-loving hell is Mrs. Braithwaite?
"She didn't ask you," Tara cut in. "She asked me. Get the hell off my desk."
Before I shove your ass off.
Wendy snickered. "Right. Because you're gonna tell her the truth. You can't even be honest with yourself about your own fucked up love triangle. How's David by the way?" Tara gasped. "You should be nicer to me, Tara. I like to push people's buttons…but I've been really nice about not pushing yours. Like Jax for instance…I wonder how he'd feel about you dating the one guy he can't stand. Friendships have ended for less…"
Tara's eyes blazed. "Listen you little—"
"—Ah, ah, ah…" Wendy shook a freshly manicured finger in her face. "Don't get your panties in a bunch. I could have told him months ago…I just thought it would be more entertaining to watch it all unfold." Wendy shrugged. "I guess you can thank my junkie mom for my increasing boredom. All the money she could use to pay the cable bill goes into her arm. So I have to find other ways to amuse myself."
"What do you want, Wendy?" Tara dared to ask.
"I wanna hang out." Wendy slid off Tara's desk. Sitting backwards on the chair directly in front of it, the chair screeched against the floor as she scooched closer. "Jax is fun and all...but he's not really one for having long conversations. But you already know that, don't you? Or at least you would if you weren't such a roadrunner."
Great.
Another corny ass joke about me running. They must be running out of them by now.
Tara cocked an eyebrow. "What about Ima?"
Wendy scoffed. "That bitch shits glitter. There's only so many times I can talk about my hair and how great my ass looks in my Levi's…and honestly, Do I really need to talk about it? I think my ass speaks for itself."
Donna cleared her throat. "Can we get back to me?"
"Sure," Tara and Wendy answered at the same time.
"You want the long version or the short version?"
"Wendy—"
Donna held up a hand to Tara. It was the shock of it that made Tara pause.
Damn. Tinkerbelle must be tweaking the hell out.
"The long version," Donna demanded.
Wendy nodded, tapping a glitter-fied fingernail against her chin. "Hmmm…Let's see….Okay, so Opie loved Sarah but Sarah loved Jackson…Opie doesn't realize that Sarah loves Jackson. Sarah realizes Opie loves Sarah. Sarah's too stupid to realize that Jackson loves"—Wendy paused, looking pointedly at the fidgeting brunette in front of her.
Tara averted her gaze to stare at the open classroom door again.
Where the FUCK is Mrs. Braithwaite?
"And?" Donna prompted, her arms folded across her chest.
"…Sarah tries to make Jackson jealous by fooling around with his best friend—who, wouldn't you know it—happens to be Opie… Opie finds out it was all a game to her…Opie's heart gets crushed. Jackson finds out he helped crush his best pal Opie's heart. Then he finds out Sarah knew what she was doing the whole time. Jackson decides to chew her out about it—throws her a couple bitch's and whore's…words like rancid…basically the standard Jackson Teller tell-off—oh but THEN! Big brother David overhears the whole thing. Big brother David decides to defend Princess Sarah's honor"—Wendy held both of her arms up on either side of her face, flexing them like a body builder—"…Jackson goes all HULK ANGGG-GREE! on his ass—probably because he couldn't do it to Sarah…you know…'cuz she's a girl—and then Prince I'm-only-Charming-until-I-beat-the-shit-outta-you gets arrested…but Unser lets him off the hook—naturally—and now Judge Hale is on the warpath because his son has a broken nose and a swollen jaw with no legal justice served—which if you ask me was more him being upset about the whole my daughter is a trouble making slut and my son got his ass kicked in front of half the County of it all, but that's just my opinion—any-wayyy…Gemma Teller's all Atta boy, Jax! The Club is all way to go Jackie, boy! And Opie's all It was just pussy. We're all good, bro. And Jackson agrees even though he knows its bullshit—because you can't bullshit a certified bullshitter, right Tara?"
Mrs. Braithwaite…Where are you?
My continued lack of criminal record is dependent upon you showing up RIGHT FUCKIN NOW.
"So Opie was in love with her?" Donna's voice was doing that cracking thing—that thing voices usually did when a person was fighting tears.
The click-clack of heels sounded at the front of the classroom.
You're not Mrs. Braithwaite…
"Apologies for my tardiness," the older woman said. "I will be your substitute this morning…and probably for the remainder of this week…Now I went over your syllabus on my way up here. Please take out your copies of A Streetcar named Desire now."
…but I am not complaining.
I accept this.
Tara yanked her bag open, pulling the book from inside of it.
Donna couldn't fault her for tuning them out.
She was the know-it-all, Nerd-vana, all that good shit. Ignoring them had nothing to do with the sudden change in direction of the conversation.
It hadn't nothing to do with the fact that Wendy saying Jax was in love with her—which she knew was total bullshit—made her heart skip a beat, then grow three sizes like that ugly green thing that stole Christmas from the Who's.
Nope.
Jackson Teller was a flirt—a flirt who also happened to be Sex on legs. No one could blame her at all for flirting back on occasion. (Well David could, but that was a whole other ball game.)
It was basic chemistry 101—she couldn't control it.
None of that dangerous love shit was happening though—not ever.
When Tara opened her English notebook, when she got really engrossed with writing her name and the date at the top of the page in perfect cursive it had nothing to do her not wanting to do what Opie suggested, and pick a side where the two teenage boys tugging at her heart were concerned.
Her sitting bone-straight in her desk-chair, eyes glued to the chalkboard, waiting for the notes wasn't her way of avoiding, or deflecting—or running.
Tara was just really fuckin eager to learn!
"In love… in lust." Wendy shrugged, seemingly oblivious to the shit-storm she just caused. "We're teenagers for Christ's sake. Isn't it the same damn thing?"
"No," Donna snapped. "It's not."
Wendy smacked her lips, nodding once. "O-kaay…you remember what I said about not shooting the messenger, right?"
Donna turned her glare towards Tara. "You better talk to your friend, Tara. Introduce her to Emily Duncan while you're at it. I'm not about to let her screw with his head again just because she can."
"It's not like that," Tara argued. It sounded weak to even her own ears. "That was Junior High School. It's in the past. Trust me."
Donna snorted. "Like you and Jax are in the past? You good with her rubbing up on him?"
"What does he have to do with anything? And no I don't care."
Liar, said a voice in her head.
"That didn't bother you seeing them together like that?" Donna challenged.
When did this become about me?
And I'm pretty sure that whole Sarah-Jackson PDA display was for Opie's benefit….
SHIT.
Damn it, Sarah.
Now I feel shitty.
"I'll talk to her," Tara promised.
"You better."
"So," Wendy interrupted. "Is this what you two do? Talk about guys all the time? High school boys are played out ladies. Wait 'til I tell you about Jacob Junior... Oooh or Kyle Hobart…."
Yuck.
When Tara's cell phone vibrated, she crossed her fingers that whoever was calling had a way of saving her from this new topic.
Tucking the phone between her hand and ear, she leaned down, her hair falling over it. "Hello?" she whispered, watching as the substitute teacher wrote her name across the chalkboard.
"Hey, baby, it's me….ask for a hall pass and come outside…I want to show you something..."
Her boyfriend—whose name was David not Jackson—would do just fine.
"Do you like it?"
Tara gave it a full circle once over before looking up at David. "It's very shiny."
David chuckled. "Custom paint job…I picked the color out and everything… the judge says he's not getting me shit for Christmas now…" David ran his hands along the hood of the car. "…and I really don't give a shit."
Tara found herself giggling, even as her eyes rolled to the sky.
What was it with boys and their obsession with cars?
Placing a hand on her hips she asked, "You couldn't wait until after school to show me your new baby?"
David brushed her long hair out of her face, tucking it behind her ear. "I'm not gonna lie…that's not the only reason I asked you to come out here."
"No?"
David shook his head. Tara wasn't used to seeing mischief in his eyes. He grabbed her by her waist, pulling her forward as he backed up against his shiny new car. "I already gave it a test drive before I pulled off the lot…" David kissed along her jaw. Tara cocked an eyebrow—smiling as she wrapped her arms around his neck when he leaned down to kiss her. Tara grazed his bottom lip with her teeth when he pulled his lips away from hers.
"…and everything was perfect," David continued. Tara's answering "mmhm?" was a moan against his mouth, as his fingers crept their way up her shirt, to the small of her back, pulling her tightly against him.
David's lips found their way back to her jaw, working their towards her ear, where he whispered, "I was hoping you could help me test out the backseat…"
Tara pulled back to look in his eyes, surprise widening her own.
Where was this David four months ago?
Oh, right…buried underneath a pile of guilt.
Tara bit her bottom lip, smiling at him brazenly. She slid her hands deep down the front pockets of his jeans, Tara giggled when she heard David's breathing hitch. She took her time—which was agonizingly slow—wrapping her fingers around what she was really after. David finally exhaled when she pulled her hands out. Twirling the car keys around in one of them, she clicked the button and the car locks popped up. Tara reached around him pulling the back passenger door open, bumping it against his back.
Taking her cue, David stepped aside. His hazel eyes darkened as he watched her slide backwards into the backseat. She crooked her finger at him, giggling when he launched himself inside the car, the door slamming shut behind him. He had her legs around his waist in three-seconds flat, Tara's back bumping against the window as he nudged her face aside, his lips kissing a deliciously-bruising trail along her throat. When Tara reached underneath his shirt to scale her nails along his rock-hard abs, he pulled away. He left her no moment to contemplate why. Just as soon his back rested against the chair, he reached for her, guiding her into his lap. When Tara pressed down against him, his fingers dug into her sides.
The way she rocked against him was too distracting.
And to David, loosening all the buttons of her blouse was worth his undivided attention.
So did her tugging down the straps her of bra.
And committing it to memory when the first moan escaped past her mouth as his lips closed around her nipple.
Nothing else mattered.
Not the fact that they were in the middle of the school parking lot.
Not the fact that his Coach was most definitely going to bench him for cutting his gym class.
Not even the fact that Jacob Junior had pulled up four parking spaces away—or that he recognized his younger brother's shiny new car.
Nothing else mattered at all.
Not until they heard his knuckles wrapping against the window, anyway.
Tap, Tap, Tap!
There was no delayed reaction for Tara this time around. She yanked her blouse closed so fast she nearly jammed her finger against the fabric.
Tara swerved off David's lap to the other side of the car, her eyes darting from left to right like she was watching a tennis match.
She was in a parking lot—again.
In broad daylight—again.
And she couldn't help but wonder if it would be better for her reputation to date a vampire instead. Vamps had lairs and didn't fare well in the sun.
She could use a guy like that.
Someone who wouldn't entice her to do naughty things in public places….like on top of cafeteria tables.
Where the hell did that come from?
What the hell is wrong with me?
Tara had no time to ponder. Her mind flipped to thinking of all the ways she could kill her boyfriend when he thought it was a good idea to roll his window down.
Opting to wait until there were no witnesses, she turned her body all the way towards the window, her dark hair falling over her face.
Jacob Hale Jr.
He fanned his hand, dramatically outside the window as if that would somehow get rid of all the steam clouding the glass.
"Don't tell me my little brother the choir boy is lighting one up on school grounds," Jacob joked. "You forget how to answer your phone? Dad wanted me to take Sarah and some of her friends to the mall in Lodi after school…but I have plans. So I'm delegating to you. I'll owe you one. What do you say?"
Tara heard David clear his throat. "Can we talk about this later?"
No, idiot. Don't try to evade, just agree so he'll keep it moving.
"I'm headed to Tijuana now. I got a surprise for the Golden child. I convinced mom and dad to take that trip to Telluride they've been putting off. This Saturday is officially Welcome back, Sarah Day! I already booked a DJ. And I even"—When Jacob stopped talking midsentence she knew.
"Fine," David agreed. "I'll do it. Now go away."
"Is that…is that Tara?"
Oh well.
"Hey, Sir-mix-alot," Tara said turning to face him.
Jake smiled over at her. "Little Orphan Tara…how's life? What you doing in my brother's new wheels? I know he's desperate to show it off but…"
Tara followed Jacob's eyes all the way down to her blouse—where all the buttons were either loose or in the wrong hole.
"Holy shit." Jacob eyes widened. Turning to his brother he said, "Are you kidding me, Davey?"
"It's none of your damn business, Jake," David barked.
The shock on Jacob's faced crumbled.
Then abruptly he burst out laughing—head tilted back, he even had the nerve to slap his knee as he chuckled.
"This is why?" Jacob Jr. goaded. "You crushed mom's dream of finally having a daughter because you wanted to screw her? Oh you just wait until she finds out why you didn't want her to—you know what? I'm not even going to tell her. That'll just give Sarah a headache when Miss Gin and Tonic starts going on and on about how she wishes Sarah was more this and she wishes Sarah would do that. That'll just piss off the princess and when she's pissed its hell for everyone… including me. Nope, I'm not telling her a damn thing. But it is O-fish-yall, you hearing me little bro? I own your ass. I'm done catering to Sarah. You're on your own and if you're smart you'll grin and bear it."
Jacob raised a hand, wriggling his fingers at Tara. "Later, Miss O." Then he walked away—swaggered away is more like it—the whole time mumbling to himself, "I am so off the hook for knocking that Carlie bitch up!"
The silence in the car was deafening.
Tara couldn't stand it any longer.
"I thought your mom wasn't upset anymore," Tara commented quietly. "Sarah said—"
David whipped around, his eyes hard. "—do you really think Sara would admit to anything that made her look inferior to anybody?" David scoffed, though it was more to himself. "…like my sister would ever admit her mother loved her best friend more than her own daughter."
Tara wrinkled her nose. "You sound ridiculous, David. Even for you."
"You think Its bullshit?" David challenged. "Why do you think Sarah's so jealous of you?"
Nervous laughter ripped through her before Tara could stop it. "David—"
"—I'm not saying my mom doesn't love her…that's not what I mean… Of course she loves her. Every parent loves their child in their own way. But Sarah's always been daddy's little girl...and you were like…I don't know…you liked art…and cooking, and you loved listening to her stories about her years as an intern at Charming Med before it was St. Thomas… you were always asking her questions…Hell, Tara… you let her go dress-shopping with you…you helped her plan all her events like you were her little girl Friday or something…she didn't have to drag you kicking and screaming to church with her on Sunday, or afternoon brunch afterterwards.." David looked up from the folded hands in his lap to give Tara a sad smile. "You were like her substitute for all the things Sarah isn't…deep down I know Sarah hated that her own mother felt like she needed a replacement. And even worse it was her best friend and she loved you, too. Do you know what it feels like to love someone even when you resent them?"
Of course I do. I still love my dad. I hate him but I love him.
"I miss her," Tara admitted.
But your mother could never replace my mother.
"She misses you, too." David reached for her hand, lacing her fingers in between his. "She wanted to take you on as her own…she fell in love with you...and I can't even blame her…falling for you…it's inevitable."
Tara slid closer to him, resting her head on his shoulder. His breath tickled her knuckles as he kissed the back of her hand. Leaning back to look up at him she said, "I should go see her sometime."
David's body went rigid underneath her, making her pull away and turn her all the way around to face him. "What is it now?"
David looked through the window behind her. "When I told them I was against the adoption my mother asked me why…and I couldn't tell her the truth so I told her—"
Tara placed her arm on his shoulder, shaking her head twice. "Whatever it was, I don't want to know because it doesn't matter…it's in the past."
Just like everything with your father—it's all in the past…
"David…" The alarm in his eyes had increased instead of diminished. Reaching up, placing her hand on his cheek she said, "I'm not angry with you. I'm glad you told—"
"—you don't get it, Tara… you're not the one I'm worried about...I don't think she'll understand why I'm with you if...if..."
Suddenly Tara felt cold all over, even sucking the warmth from her voice. Steeling her eyes against the pained expression staring her in the face, she asked a question she knew she'd didn't really want the answer to.
Tara knew without a doubt that David had gotten real creative with the lie he told his mother.
She knew it was something hard to take back.
And for all her life was worth she couldn't shake the feeling that David's fiction had become a reality—only it was one more twisted than anything a teenage boy could dream up.
Especially when it involved the man he looked up to his entire life.
"What the hell did you tell her?" Tara forced out.
BRNNNNG!
The signal to the end of second period rang out in the distance.
The lot would be filling up soon.
Repeat-seniors with only one or two credits to make up rushing out of the building to get to their nine-to-five jobs. 11th and 12th graders headed out to take in the late morning sun up on the bleachers by the football field during their early lunch period. Freshmen cutting it close, showing up just as third period started.
Saved by the bell—again.
But who was it saving this time?
The boy who was afraid to tell the truth? Or the girl that was terrified to hear it?
Tara was in full on zombie mode as she walked through the third floor hallway. Fellow students zoomed by one direction or the other, a white-noise blur of faces and voices—not a single one in focus.
David Hale gave the term melodramatic a whole new meaning. The lie he told wasn't even something to sneeze at.
But now she couldn't stop thinking about the lies she told.
The truth she'd buried for so long—the truth that was prodding against the surface, trying to break through—trying to break her.
She wouldn't let it. She beat it down once—she could do it again.
She just had to remember what got her through it the first time—Who got her through it.
"Cutting it close today, Ms. Knowles," Mr. Whitman noted as she walked into the classroom.
Tara pretended she didn't hear him as she sat down at her desk.
Tara knew exactly who got her through it—and the bitch of it was he wasn't even trying to get her through anything. He didn't know.
No one did.
But he got her through it.
Being around him made her feel safe—it made her feel wanted without strings…without conditions…without threats.
"Pssst! Track star! Any chance I could copy your homework?"
Tara could hear the smile in Jackson Teller's voice.
She couldn't look at him right now.
He would see it.
And Opie wasn't around to run interference for all the things she was feeling about his best friend right now.
Mr. Whitman was a student-screwing pervert, no question.
But he was damn good math teacher and Tara wasn't ready to write him off completely. Half way out of his classroom door, she finally caved. Swallowing every last ounce of pride she had, Tara begged her teacher to postpone her last day of detention.
And he actually let her off the hook.
No make-up day—just a stern warning to learn to control her temper.
Arthur was working nights now. He was probably at home, lounging on the couch—a bottle of bourbon in one hand, a lit cigarette in the other.
Tara didn't want to go home, and she was off the schedule at work today.
Being alone meant thinking about Judge Jacob Hale.
It meant obsessing over Jax, wondering how long she could keep sending him mixed signals before he walked away from her for good.
It meant beating herself up about the fact, that once again she didn't want him—she needed him. And Opie had his own shit now, so he couldn't even fulfill his role as a poor substitute.
She couldn't make up her mind about anything.
The only thing that made sense was David—she knew where she stood with him. She knew he loved her. She just had to believe that wouldn't change no matter what.
"Hey, Tee." Tara spun around at the sound of Sarah's voice. "You hear to try out?"
When Tara cocked an eyebrow, Sarah waved a hand behind her.
In the middle of the bleachers, huddled together was most of the cheerleading team.
"No," Tara answered quickly. "I was actually—"
"—looking for David?" Sarah nodded towards the other side of the field. "He's over there."
Tara followed her gaze. On the ground, practically in between her legs, David was pushing Maize O'Keefe's leg forward, high above her head.
"Relax, Tee," Sarah said. Tara immediately recognized her the-truth-is-the-opposite-of-what-I'm-saying voice. "He's just helping her stretch. The guys from the team do it for the squad all the time."
And you know this because you've been back for five minutes.
"It's fine." Tara was surprised she managed to keep the annoyance out of her voice. Where was this bitch when he wanted to show off his fancy new backseat? "I was actually taking my shortcut through the fence. Mr. Whitman let me off the hook for my last day of detention so I'm on my way home."
"What'd you do to get detention anyway?" Not a damn thing.
"It was Jax's fault actually."
Sarah rolled her eyes. "Aren't you bored with blaming him for everything, yet?"
Tara shook her head. "It really was his fault. It's okay though. He ended up getting in trouble, too."
"Funny, there's a rumor going around that you two had sex in the cafeteria the other day…"
Tara wasn't touching that one so she switched gears. "Listen, Sarah," Tara started. "Donna's a little testy with people she doesn't know…but she's not a bad person. So take it easy on her, okay?"
Sarah tilted her head forward, looking up at Tara through batting lashes. "I don''t know what you mean, Lady Tee."
Enough of that shit.
"It's Tara," Tara snapped.
Sarah's cocked an eyebrow. "Excuse me?"
"My name is Tara. It stopped being Lady Tee when you stopped being Princess 'Rah…when were eight."
Sarah's eyes widened briefly. She recovered quickly though, with the same sardonic smile as before. "So what, Jax is the only one that gets to keep his childhood nickname?"
"Prince Charming was never a nickname. It was an insult. He's the one that decided to embrace it."
"Right." Sarah chewed at her bottom lip the way she always did when she was in deep thought.
"What is it this time, Sarah?" The old schoolyard mind games were getting old really fast.
"Have you talked to Jax lately?" Tara nodded, her shoulders shrugging at the same time. "He mention anything about your father?"
Huh?
"What about my father?"
"Oh." Sarah winced. "He still didn't tell you."
"Tell me what?"
"Nothing," Sarah answered quickly, waving her hand. "It's nothing…Forget it. You should really try out for the team….I heard Donna tried out but didn't make the cut…I'm surprised actually. She's such a bundle of perky."
Tara didn't smile. "Leave her alone, Sarah. I'm serious. Leave them alone."
Or I'll hold Donna's purse while she gives you the nose job you've been begging for since you got back.
"What is she, your new BFF?"
Tara's cell phone rang. And she was happy for the distraction.
She wasn't happy to hear Karen Monroe's voice on the other end, however.
"I have to go," Tara announced, flipping the phone shut seconds later. "I just got called in to work so now I have to rush home to change. I'll see you tomorrow, okay?"
Tara walked off without waiting for an answer.
When she cut through the field, David looked up from his personal training session with Maize to gawk at her.
And Tara didn't slow her speed or miss a step.
Tara Knowles was tapped out. She'd had enough drama for the day.
And she'd lied to Mr. Whitman, too—her temper wasn't going anywhere any time soon.
|REVIEW|
