Chapter Twenty One: Teenage Dream
The curfew comes at the crack of night ~
The sad old wino aches to dissipate the fright
The jet jump jiver speeds past his machine
Whatever happened to the teenage dream?
"Okay, drinky. Time to get you home," Fleet's dark eyes sparkled as he got off his bike to help me over to it.
"No, not home," I protested. I was definitely still too shit-faced to be making good decisions.
"Eliza..." He sighed deeply.
"If I wanted to go home to get my ass kicked I would've just called my Dad or Gemma," I slurred. Fleet seemed to consider this for a minute as he guided me over to his bike with his hand on my back.
"Alright," He sighed, "I can bring you to the clubhouse, but if anyone asks it wasn't my idea." I could tell this was the best I was gonna get so I just nodded in agreement. He took the helmet off his head to fasten it on mine before helping me onto the back of his bike. He then swung his leg over in front of me and took my hands, pulling my arms around his mid-section. "Hold on tight, okay? And stay awake." I wasn't used to him being so commanding of me but I agreed.
"Tight and awake," I agreed, then giggled a little at how that sounded. Fleet fired up the engine and before I knew it, we were speeding off through Charming. I had to keep my eyes shut for most of the journey though because the speed we travelled at was nauseating.
When we arrived, Fleet helped me get the helmet off again and led me inside. Thankfully the clubhouse was long empty, fight night having been cancelled due to the events of that day, so nobody saw us as he led me to the dorm room he was staying in. Even though I was drunk I knew I still had to be careful for how this would look; Happy and Kozik were both also staying here and it wouldn't be unusual if Jax was too, if he and Wendy were on the outs. Fleet ducked out of his room for a minute and returned with a glass of water for me, which he set on the side. I sat on the bed and looked around. After a moment he sat beside me too.
"Have to admit, when I imagined getting you back here with me it wasn't quite like this," He joked. Normally a comment like that would make me blush but thanks to the alcohol, it didn't.
"Me neither," I said instead. Because if I was honest, I had thought about it. I thought about it every time he stole a sneaky kiss from me. For the first time ever, though, I thought I saw Fleetwood Janowitz look surprised.
"You would… I mean..."
"I dunno." And it suddenly occurred to me how that might have sounded. "Not tonight..." I couldn't help that the last two words came out nervous. I was too drunk to even consider that. But even though I trusted Fleet, that didn't mean he wouldn't take advantage of me anyway. He looked at me then and his expression changed, softened.
"Not tonight," He agreed and I sighed with relief. I didn't do a good job of disguising that either. "I have every intention of fucking you, Eliza, but I'm gonna do it when you're sober and when you're ready… and only if you want it. I'm an asshole but not that kind of asshole." I looked down, feeling guilty now.
"Sorry," I mumbled, feeling like a foolish little girl in front of him for the second time that day. He stroked back some of my hair from my face.
"Don't be," Fleet responded, uncharacteristically gently. "You've had a fuckin' rough day. You should get some sleep. I'll hit the floor," He told me.
"You don't have to hit the floor," I protested as I fumbled for the water he'd put on the bedside table for me. "There's space here. We just can't…" He knew what I meant. Fleet hesitated.
"You sure?" He checked. "I'm a little young for back problems."
"Whatever," I shrugged. I kicked off my shoes and my jeans, intending to keep my t-shirt on. Fleet ripped his eyes off my legs. "Like you haven't seen legs on a girl before," I mumbled.
"I said I won't take advantage, you just have to step it up a notch and make it hard on me, right?" He teased as he kicked his own shoes off. He located a pair of sweats and yanked those on instead of his jeans and removed his kutte and then t-shirt. My phone rang again and I sighed as I drunkely fumbled for it, looking at the screen. It was Clay again. I held the device out so that Fleet could read it too. "You should call him back, let him know you're safe."
"Yeah, good idea. Hi Dad, I'm fine I just went out and got trashed and now I'm back at the clubhouse about to get into bed with Fleet. Don't worry!" I mocked sarcastically. Fleet laughed.
"Okay, fine," He relented. "You wanna let him sweat, be my guest. Maybe it'll be good for him." He threw back the covers and climbed into the bed, raising an eyebrow at me. "You coming?" I hesitated nervously for a second before I slid into bed beside him, keeping a safe distance between us. My head was still spinning at first but after a few minutes of silence in the dark, I felt a little less shitfaced. Only then did Fleet speak, like he knew I was more lucid then. "I was thinking about transferring," He said quietly.
"To SAMCRO?" I clarified.
"Yeah… I like it here. Feels more like home," He added.
"You spoken to Clay about it?"
"Yeah… says it depends," Fleet responded. I frowned into the darkness, trying to imagine why Clay wouldn't want Fleet in his charter when he'd already proven his loyalty by hanging around here for so long, learning about life in Charming, helping them out wherever he could.
"Depends on what?" I questioned sleepily.
"A few things," Came the cryptic response. I suddenly realised that this was probably the most personal conversation I'd ever had with Fleet. He was confident and slick but he never really said much about himself, his opinions, what he wanted from his life. "But I'm really not sure I wanna go back to Chicago."
"Chicago is a lot more fun a place to live than Charming," I pointed out. "Here's… a small town. You put down roots here, you stop having any kind of..." I tried to figure out the word. The one I wanted was 'anonymity' but my drunk, tired mind didn't land on it.
"I know," Fleet agreed, almost lamented, and I couldn't think of anything else to say. I must've fallen asleep not long after that.
"...You can kiss your car goodbye for the next month," This was just one in a long list of punishments Clay had in store for me, also including extra chores, being grounded, and no clubhouse parties, which somehow he and Gemma counted separately from being grounded. "And I already told Lumpy you quit your job, so you can forget that too."
I don't think I'd ever been berated like that in my life. My Mom simply hadn't cared where I went or what I did, not that I had much of a life back then anyway. Clay was usually pretty liberal, trusting my judgement and easily convinced to allow me to do things. But apparently my disappearing act had not gone down well. As much as I wanted to, I wisely decided not to point out that Clay basically told me he didn't want me here. Hindsight and a hangover had informed me that wasn't the case; he'd garbled his words and merely worried about me being so close to the club. Still, I was biting my tongue hard enough to draw blood as I sat silently, letting him rant and rave. In fact, I'd been quiet so long that Clay actually stopped and squinted down at me.
"You got nothing to say for yourself?" He asked finally. I blinked up at him blearily. I'd only gotten home half an hour before, somehow managing to slip out of the clubhouse undetected and having to walk across town to get home without my car, because Bobby had given the keys back to Clay. Since then I'd been sat at the table listening to Clay yell while Gemma watched in the background with her arms folded.
"No," I replied. "Are you done? I'm going to bed." I stood up and walked past both of my parents, heading up to my bedroom and shutting and locking the door behind me. I was glad I'd installed the lock now- I'd done it after the time Tig slept outside on the floor to guard me from Kyle. I crawled into bed and was indeed asleep again almost immediately- I'd found it hard to sleep properly with Fleet beside me, never having shared a bed with a guy in my life, though true to his word he didn't so much as touch me.
Gemma's P.O.V.
"I have no idea what's gotten into her," Clay was fuming. I'd let him parent Eliza this time however he saw fit, but privately I knew I wasn't the only one wondering the same thing about him. He'd gotten a little military with the poor girl overnight, all because she witnessed the fight between Darby and Kozik. She'd behaved perfectly, smoothing things over with the cops and proving her strength, but Clay had taken his concern for his daughter and twisted it into rage and discipline. It was the only way he knew how to be. He seemed to know I wasn't exactly on his wavelength, though. He turned his glare on me. "What? Are you telling me I'm wrong?" I sighed.
"I don't think you're wrong for punishing her for her vanishing act last night," I began.
"-And the fact she came stumbling in this morning, with no answer to where the fuck she's been, clearly hungover-"
"That too," I agreed warily.
"Then what?"
"She's acting out. It's what teenagers do."
"Not Eliza." And there was the root of the problem.
"Not even after her father came down incredibly hard on her over something that was not her fault?"
"Look, you don't get to tell me what's right or wrong when it concerns my daughter-" Clay was getting all puffed up like a big fish again so I raised my hands, trying to soothe him.
"I'm not telling you what to do. You're doing things the only way you know how, baby, I get that. I just don't think that you can discipline your daughter the same way you discipline the club." Finally, Clay stopped pacing and gritting his teeth and looked over at me properly, and I knew what I'd said had gone into his head, even if he didn't like what he was hearing.
"Shit's all on it's head. Charming can be a dangerous place for her right now. I don't want her out of our sight," He admitted finally. I knew what it cost him, to admit that the newest beef with the Nords was getting out of control. "And Darby knows who she is now. She has a target on her back, Gemma."
"I know," I replied. "But Eliza, she's smart. You know she is. Just if you try to hold her too tight, you'll only push her further away." Clay looked like he was considering this nugget of truth for a minute.
"Maybe further away is where we should be aiming for," He said grimly, finally.
A few days had passed but I was still grounded. Clay had refused to back down even on me having access to my car, so Gemma had been dropping me off to school and various Sons had picked me up everyday so far. I was stood alone outside the gate waiting for my ride on the fourth school day in a row being sans car when Chibs was the one who pulled up, his bike easily recognisable by the new addition of a St Andrews cross sewn onto the seat. The previous day I'd had Opie and he'd seemed pissed off about something, so I was relieved to see a more cheerful face. The Scotsman grinned at me.
"Yer chariot awaits, lassie," He said. I couldn't help but smile back.
"Thanks, Chibby," I responded, climbing on- and then we were away. My day at school had been the same as every other day. Nobody really spoke to me anymore, so I'd shuffled from class to class, eaten lunch alone and spent study hall sketching aimlessly. School, if I was honest, was getting pretty depressing. I was lonely there, an aching, crippling feeling that gnawed away at me all day every day. But, I figured it was too late for me to start trying to make friends now. It'd seem fake or forced, and besides, everybody was off to college in a few months and I'd never see them again anyway. If you managed to leave Charming you didn't come back, that was for sure. I let the bike ride sweep all of those troubles away though, just like I did on every journey home from school, back to where my real life was. Only today, instead of being taken to the clubhouse to wait for Gemma to finish work and take me home, Chibs took a different turning. I couldn't ask where we were going but it soon became clear anyway as we pulled up to the Cara Cara studio.
When Chibs parked and we were off the bike, he didn't give me time to ask the questions before he was answering them:
"Don' worry, love. Gemma's here, she needed ter see Luann so she told me to bring ye here."
I'd never actually been inside the studio before, but I wasn't surprised to see the compromising positions the pornstars were in as I headed over to Luann in the directors chair- I saw worse sights in the clubhouse on a weekly basis. Gemma was out of sight somewhere, but Luann grinned when she saw me and yelled 'cut'.
"Hey honey, it's good to see you," The porn queen smiled warmly, her eyes scanning over me. "And you're finally filling out a little. You have a nice figure…" I cringed somewhat uncomfortably and glanced at Chibs beside me. Luann got the picture. "Gemma just got a call, she took it in the office. How was school?"
"Great," I lied, but I was saved from any more awkward small talk by Gemma's reappearance.
"Hey," She greeted me, "I'm glad you're here. Thanks, Chibs."
"Nae bother," Chibs shrugged, removing his sunglasses to turn and survey the set where the pornstars were waiting for Luann to call 'action' on them again. "I can think o' worse ways ter spend a Thursday afternoon myself."
"You old perv," Gemma chastised good naturedly. "We'll get going then." I barely had time to say goodbye to Luann before Gemma was frogmarching me out the door with a mission clearly in mind. "We got a bunch of brochures through the door today," My step-mother informed me as we headed across the parking lot to where her SUV was parked.
"Yeah?" I asked, not connecting any of the dots as to what this had to do with me.
"For colleges," Gemma supplied as we climbed into the car.
"Oh."
"So I figured we'd have a look at those when we got home, see if you like the look of anywhere." This was a surprise for me- I didn't really see Gemma as the type of parental figure who sat there looking through college prospectuses and seriously discussing the future of my education.
"Really?" I asked, uncertain.
"Sure. Your father and I have actually been talking-"
"Great," I interrupted spitefully. I was still super pissed with Clay- not for punishing me though, so much as for the fact that, lately, it just didn't feel like he liked me very much. He seemed to be in a permanent bad mood and seemed to take it out on me- whether that was intentional or not, it sucked, because I'd always gotten on well with my Dad. It was difficult to find myself suddenly at odds with him in such a big way.
"Eliza," Gemma said, in a warning tone that was not to be fucked with. I wisely fell silent. She paused for a minute before she continued, hitting the road. "We know that you're not super into your schooling but you're making decent grades all around now, and you're very talented with your art. You could probably get in somewhere pretty good, maybe even get some kind of partial scholarship."
"Huh?" I was totally not getting this, at all. We'd never seriously talked about me going to college before.
"I figure, you've had a pretty rough time of things since you came to town, with one thing or another. You grew up in Prothero, you're probably missing the city by now and college would be a great chance for you to get back to that, maybe open up your horizons a little. You could go to Sacramento or maybe even further away. Somewhere awesome like New York-"
"New York?" I repeated. I shook my head. "Gemma…"
"-It'd be kind of a shame to miss an opportunity-"
"Why are you guys trying to get rid of me?" I questioned quietly. I wasn't able to keep the hurt note from seeping through in my voice. I knew that my coming to live here had been unexpected and possibly unwanted, but my mother had died- where else could I have done? At least, I'd thought things had gone well since I got to Charming… until recently.
"Eliza," Gemma sounded pained as we turned onto our street. "We're not. Of course we're not."
"You're talking about me going to college literally the other side of the country, right out the blue! Clay can barely even look at me and now you're suddenly taking an interest in my education!" We were pulling up outside the house by the time I was done.
"You've got the wrong idea, honey, you-" But I was out of the car.
"Where are my car keys?" The vehicle itself was sat feet away from us, useless, but all I wanted to do was get the hell out of there, away from them. By the sounds of it, that was what Gemma wanted too. But she'd gotten out of the car now and she was looking at me sadly.
"Clay has them," She replied. Angry, I kicked the tyre of her car before storming into the house, up to my room, and locking the door. After a couple of minutes of me furiously tearing apart my bedroom, crashing about as noisily as possible, I ran out of steam and sat on my bed, contemplating what to do, but every idea was thwarted by my lack of access to my car. I wanted to scream with frustration. Clay couldn't make his mind up, it seemed- he either wanted me thousands of miles away or right under his nose, being kept in like a prisoner when I hadn't even done anything wrong. In that way only a teenager can, with all the intensity of hormones and youthful rage within, I truly believed in that moment that my father must hate me. And the apparent fact of it broke my heart so thoroughly that all of a sudden, without even realising it, I was making a plan.
A/N: Eliza is going off the deep end and Gemma is supporting Clay even if she doesn't agree with what he's doing. Whatever is coming next?