Chapter Fourteen: Friday Night, Saturday Morning

Out of bed at eight a.m.
Out my head by half past ten
Out with mates and dates and friends
That's what I do at weekends

~ Friday Night, Saturday Morning – The Specials ~

I'd left my shoes off, given that the heels hurt my ankles to walk in, so when I was in the hands of Tig Trager, standing mere inches away, I felt tiny. He kept one side of his mouth pulled up in a smirk as he waltzed me ostentatiously around the dance floor.
"You should count yourself lucky. I don't dance with just anybody, Kitten," He informed me. Somehow, maybe it was the alcohol, but I found my voice.

"You're only dancing with me because you've decided you're my babysitter," I reminded him, "You don't have to."

"Well everybody else got to take you out for a spin," Tig pointed out, "You're more popular than the bride on her own wedding, Kitten. Guess I wanted to see what I was missing out on." I glanced towards Donna, who was now sat at the side resting her aching feet. I knew she couldn't be more than a week or two from giving birth now, and as the night drew on I realised she must be exhausted. Opie was sat beside her, one of her feet across his lap, and he was rubbing her swollen ankles. I smiled at the sight, but the real reason I looked away was because, and it may have been my imagination, it seemed like Tig was kind of flirting with me and I had no idea how to respond. When I felt cooler, I looked back up at him.

"And were you missing out on much?" I somehow managed to say without blushing.

"I was missing out on a pretty girl on my arm, right?" Tig chuckled. I smiled but bit my lip. If Kyle said something like that to me my skin would crawl all over. But Tig's blue eyes danced with amusement and fun rather than leeriness and even though we were dancing together, his hand on my waist felt perfunctory and he held me a respectable distance away from his body. I knew it was because although he joked around, Tig didn't see me that way. Plain and simple. He was doing this favour for my Dad. And admittedly, he hadn't really been asked- but Tig did, at least, like me enough as a person not to mind my company. As a seventeen year old girl barely capable of meeting his eyes due to the embarrassing crush I had on him, this was as much as I could ask for.

"And you're protecting me from Kyle," I stated. Tig raised his eyebrows in apparent surprise. "Everyone talks about it basically right in front of me as if I'm not there and then acts shocked when I know stuff," I mumbled. It wasn't just this; this, at least, actually concerned me. Sometimes Clay, Jax and the others would talk club business in front of me, either forgetting I was there or forgetting that I wasn't supposed to be a part of that inner circle. And to be honest, I didn't like knowing things. I didn't like the sense of foreboding it gave me, even knowing little things that I shouldn't. I didn't like having to sharpen my focus and be on guard just because Hale or some other cop was in the vicinity of me. I liked the boys, the club I called my family, remaining that and that alone and not becoming the hardened criminals that everyone else saw them as.

"The guys trust you, Kitten. You're a smart kid…it's easy to forget that..." Tig trailed off somewhat awkwardly, though he didn't falter in dancing. I was a bit surprised myself that he figured out I wasn't just thinking about the Kyle thing, too.

"Easy to forget…?" I couldn't help but ask. He blinked and focused his clear blue eyes on mine.

"...Forget you are just a kid." He looked away, over my head. I was glad I wasn't the only one who felt uncomfortable. Still, even as I cast my eyes down, I decided that as the dialogue was open I might as well talk about it with someone.

"Why?" I said. I wanted to know why I was in this strange limbo. Also, I wanted to ignore the sting of confirmation of something that I already knew; to Tig I really was just Clay's daughter.

"I don't know, darlin'," Tig looked at me again. A slower song came on, and he slowed our pace too in accordance. "We can all see how young you are. But when you talk… shit," He sighed, "I'm not good at explaining this stuff. Look, you're mature for your age… grown up. Sometimes more than women I know in their thirties, forties… shit," Tig swore again. "I guess we know you can handle shit, so we don't have to guard ourselves around you or something."

I had to pause to think that one over. As if there wasn't enough evidence that my foray into being a teenager was failing, even Tig Trager told me that I didn't do a very good job of actually being a kid. But even though I knew it'd still bother me when the guys slipped up, I had to admit to myself that I felt better now I at least kind of understood. It came from a place of love and trust, not a lack of consideration or even worse, total ignorance of me and my presence.

"Okay," I said finally. Tig looked relieved I wasn't going to ask him more about that. At this point I did spot Kyle at the edge of the dancefloor, glaring over at us. Tig saw him too and he chuckled.

"Would you hate me if I admit I want him to make a move on you just so I have an excuse to put a dent in his face?" Tig murmured to me. And the ice finally cracked, because I laughed.

"Honestly, I get the feeling like you're not the only one," I replied.

The conversation I'd had with Tig at the wedding was not the first time I'd heard somebody express discontent with Kyle Hobart in the club. Clay was frequently coiled to spring around him and so was Piney- and to see those two on the same side of an argument was so rare that I knew instinctively it was going much deeper than his weird fixation on me, his clock-watching for my eighteenth birthday. All the guys did stupid shit, and sometimes that involved underage chicks. Not grossly underage, of course, but illegal enough to be going on with and the club's general attitude was that it was more stupid than it was worth the fun, so frowned upon it. But I frequently heard Jax complain that Hobart was late for church; once, I heard Chibs complain the guy was lazy and even around TM, Gemma bemoaned the fact it took him longer to get round to fixing up motors, only to do a shittier job than someone else.

I was at the picnic table outside of the clubhouse one sunny afternoon when I was joined by Opie. It was a couple of weeks following his wedding, and literally three days since the birth of his daughter. The tallest biker sat beside me, gazing out across the lot.
"I thought you'd be at home with Donna," I stated, to start the conversation.

"She's at home resting. I brought the baby with me- Gemma's got her in the office for now, while she's sleeping," Opie explained. I smiled. I'd met the baby girl the day she was born, having been among the first to visit the hospital, along with Jax.

"Does she have a name yet?" I asked him.

"Yeah," Opie smiled, "We settled last night, finally. Ellie." I cringed automatically at the hated nickname that I'd only just gotten Clay to stop using. "I know. I told Donna you wouldn't appreciate it when she suggested the name, but when I told her why she was even more settled on it. I guess our daughter is kinda named after you," Opie grinned. Although I hated the name Ellie, I had to admit I was flattered. And besides, once Ellie started to grow I'd associate the name with her more than I would with the happy life I'd had before my Mom fell off the wagon and turned everything to shit.

"I guess so… So what're you doing?" I asked conversationally. Opie shrugged.

"Waiting for Jax… And Kyle," He said the second name with a sigh. I raised my eyebrows at this and Opie caught the look. He just shrugged and I guessed it was club-related. I didn't want to know and Opie was never usually one for sharing, which I appreciated. Opie peered at me thoughtfully for a minute. "Listen. I'm really glad you and Donna have gotten close. She needs someone…. Someone who gets it."

"Sure," I said, not having expected this from Opie. He nodded, looking down at his hands.

"Yeah…" At that second, Jax roared into the lot on his bike and backed it in line. After a moment he headed over to us. He flashed me a grin.

"Hey sis. Ope. Hobart here yet?" My step-brother questioned. Opie shook his head and Jax cursed: "Shit."

"I'll call him," Opie said, getting to his feet. He patted me on the shoulder on his way past, back into the clubhouse to make the call, leaving me with Jax. He cocked an eyebrow at me.

"What?" I immediately asked, defensive. Jax sniggered.

"I just saw your friend," He informed me, and I knew by his tone of voice alone that he meant Michael. "Stopped off at the convenience store for smokes and there he was… not for long. He sort of ducked behind some shelves when he noticed me." Jax looked altogether too proud of how afraid of him Michael was- although really some of it was my fault because I'd overplayed my hand a little just to keep him from showing up too much around the MC and invading my other life as much as he had my normal one.

"Oh." I'd seen Michael twice since Opie's wedding. The first time he'd dropped by Lumpy's while I was working and thankfully, I'd been too busy to really deal with his shit. I just explained briefly to him that my phone got destroyed at the wedding. It wasn't a lie, I just neglected to mention that I dropped it in a pitcher of beer myself. The second time he had shown up at the house. Gemma had hovered behind me the entire time Michael was there, breathing down our necks. If it hadn't been for that, I would've chosen that moment to dump him. But, I did think he might be taking the hint as he wasn't showing up as much as I feared.

"What's going on, sis? You don't seem so jazzed about that guy."

"Jax." I didn't want to talk to him about boys.

"Oh come on. I'm not really here to have digs about him to you. Just back when we talked about it, at your birthday party, you seemed pretty strong on living this average life but all summer instead of hanging around with your boyfriend or your friends from school you've been here." I looked at him reluctantly but I could see that Jax was being sincere in his interest. So, I sighed.

"I'm going to break up with him," I announced. "I should've done it weeks ago."

"Why didn't you?" Jax did a bad job of not looking smug.

"Difficult conversations," I muttered. He chuckled.

"Do it, sis. Get rid of him. We'll reconsider you dating again when you're thirty," Jax teased. But instead of getting annoyed like I normally would, I did laugh. Opie was emerging from the clubhouse at this point, looking pissed, not something I would like to be involved in.

"Hobart got into it with April. His latest teen gash," Opie grumbled. I stood up, taking that as my cue to leave. Jax smiled at me as I waved him goodbye and departed towards the office to go see baby Ellie.

"Do the right thing, kid," He muttered, squeezing my arm as I passed before he refocused his attention on his best friend.

I finally tracked Michael down that night, at his work at the movie theatre in Morada. His shift would end half an hour after I arrived, so I sat outside on the hood of my car, watching life go by until he emerged. I decided not to go in and let him or his work colleagues know I was there, because I wanted to spare him any extra humiliation. Everybody from Donna to Jax and the rest of the world in between had been telling me for so long that Michael wasn't right for me. I was just doing what needed to be done. To be honest, it didn't make me feel better about it.

I was steeling myself by the time my watch showed that Michael's shift was done. He'd be out in any minute. I slid off the car hood, just about ready, and moments later he appeared. As it was a Saturday night the theatre was pretty busy, so I hadn't paid a whole lot of attention to anyone else there. But I spotted when he emerged and I began to head across the parking lot towards him. I couldn't have been more than ten feet away when someone reached him first. Someone with long, perfect blonde hair reached him first. She flung her arms around him and he kissed her deeply. I was surprised she didn't choke on his tongue because in my experience he used far too much of that.

Five feet away from them, frowning, I realised who it was that was attached to his lips.

"You've got to be fucking kidding me!"

Michael Quinn and Dana Peterson broke apart with a cartoon-like suctioning noise and turned to face me. The former's eyes went wide and very round.
"Oh, shit- Eliza!" He exclaimed.

"Yes, that's my name," I responded pointedly. I didn't really give a shit about him, but I did look at Dana. She had her hand clapped over her mouth, looking partly horrified and partly embarrassed that she'd been caught in the act by me. "It seems like I was right about you the first time we met, wasn't I?"

"Eliza, I…" Michael was trying to draw my attention back. I deigned to look at him. "I'm really sorry, I don't know what came over me, I just-" I rolled my eyes hard.

"Do you really think I'm that dumb? Like I'm meant to believe that little fucking display was the first time? Please. You're lucky I came here to dump your ass anyway. Prick," I spat, before moving my gaze back to Dana. "I don't give a shit about him. But you," I took a step towards her and she actually took one back. I suddenly remembered another thing about when I'd first met Dana- I'd busted her nose. "You were supposed to be my friend."

"I-I- I am your friend Eliza! I am!" Dana began to cry. "This- this just sorta happened- he-he was lonely 'cause you'd been ignoring him and he asked me w-why and I just-"

"-Just shoved your tongue down his throat?" I looked her up and down in disgust. Fury was burning through my entire body now. I hadn't been lying when I said Dana's betrayal stung me way more than Michael's did. He was just a silly high school boy I'd mistakenly stumbled into dating. Dana… she had been my only friend at school. I'd helped her, taken care of her, accepted her even after we got off to a way rocky start. To be honest, given my lack of friends throughout my life, she'd really been my first one, period. And this was how it had to turn out?

"Hey, come on, you can't blame us! You're always off with your stupid biker guys, probably whoring behind my back anyway! So what if we got a little action?" Well, I hadn't even planned to spare Michael a glance ever again after the last one, but I turned right around to face him directly then.

"I'm whoring around?" I snapped. "With my biker guys?" I laughed at him humourlessly. "Want me to call them, so you can say that about me in front of them?" I'd never do it, not in a million years. It was one of the strict boundary lines that I didn't want to cross unless absolutely necessary. But Michael didn't know that and being a Charming native, he also knew better than to want that. I saw him pale visibly in the neon light from the movie theatre's sign behind him. "You listen, you pathetic little boy- you're needy, you're immature, and worst of all? You're fucking BORING! Even if I did just open my legs to the first guy who came along," I threw Dana a look for this, "Sex STILL couldn't make you less of a dweeb!" Michael Quinn went from ghostly pale to bright red in a mere second.

"Eliza," Dana appealed again through her tears. "Eliza, please, I'm s-"

"No," I interrupted, holding up my hand. "Don't you dare say you're sorry." My fists were tingling with the urge to hit her again but this time, for now anyway, I decided my better option was to walk away.

A/N: Michael and Dana are snakes! Just as Eliza finally decides to chuck him, she catches them practically in the act and he was an ass about it too!

I hope you guys liked the wedding scene with Tig. I really loved writing it, showing the earliest little glimpses of their future relationship. And tension mounting with Kyle in the club- that's all going to come into play. How about Eliza being the origin of Ellie's name? I thought it was cute. Thanks for reading, if you have the time please drop me a review!