Chapter Fifty-Eight

Clarissa walked out to the garage, chuckling at the grease covered boy beside his Harley Davidson. "How's it coming?" She asked, watching as he blew a chunk of hair out of his eyes.

"I'm gonna need a new starter, and a couple other parts from what I can see so far." He looked up from the mess of parts on the concrete, his dark eyes the color of milk chocolate from the joy of working on something mechanical after so long being cooped up in the house while he began his recovery from surgery. "If I can find the parts, I can have it running in a month."

She shook her head, placing a box of old clothes that she'd raided from the kids' rooms on the floor. "Keep in mind, school starts in a week." She took a deep breath, fear rising at the thought of him riding the motorcycle when he got cleared to drive. She knew it wouldn't be long before he was able to get behind the wheel again, his seizures were fading with every day, and despite how much it scared her when he got them she didn't want to think about him getting in a wreck on his bike. "And we're taking you all school shopping in an hour so you need to go get cleaned up."

John nodded, looking at his ruined clothes. "I might need to get some new jeans." He stated, noticing the box of clothes in the corner. "What're you doing with those?" He asked, puling out one of his favorite shirts.

She shook her head, noticing the question on his face. "I'm giving them to Goodwill, they're old and you're getting new ones."

John shook his head, picking up a few more of his favorite shirts. "No way, I worked hard to find these." He started back for the door, wondering why she would get rid of perfectly good clothes because they had a few stains and were wearing thin.

"Johnathan, bring them here." She watched as he hesitated, not understanding why he was trying to hold onto the clothes. "Those things are gross, they're so thin I can see your skin through them, they're stained with God knows what, and most of them have holes in them big enough for Amelia to fit her fist through."

John hung his head, looking at the old things. "I stole these when I was broke, they were the only things I had to wear since I was fourteen." He looked up at her, honesty in his eyes. "I even found some of them in a dumpster."

Clarissa shook her head, amazed at this new revelation to John's past. "Honey, we can buy you new ones, ones that actually fit and aren't too tight on your chest."

He looked down at the old shirts, his heart torn between keeping them and tossing them. "Mom… I've never had anything new before I met you… and I'm not sure if I'd like the new ones."

Clarissa smiled, taking the shirts from him and tossing them back into the box. "We'll find something that you will like." She pointed to his boots. "Maybe we can even get you some new shoes." She cocked an eyebrow at him. "Ones that you won't cut the toe off of with a guillotine in your locker."

John gave a sheepish smile, rubbing the back of his neck. "Claire told you about that, huh?"

"Actually, it was Andrew." She chuckled, patting his back. "And I hope that you'll keep your locker clean this year."

He smirked, starting back to the house with her. "Depends on if my maid goes on vacation."

"Johnathan Kurtis Bender, I swear to God…"

Clarissa walked down the notebook isle in the school supplies store, picking up a notebook and placing it in the cart. "How's that one for your songs?"

John looked at the fancy cover, noticing that it had a cool pattern on it. "It's fancy…" He fought the urge to let her buy it, knowing that it would be more expensive than the ones he usually got. He put it back, picking up a plain black book and tossing it into the cart. "That one will be fine."

Claire picked up a new pen, tossing it into the cart along with a few backpacks and a couple binders. "John, we have enough money to get you a nice one."

He shook his head, admiring a beautiful set of colored pens, thinking about how cool it would be to have every poem and song in a different color. "I don't need a fancy one." He looked up as Dominic and the rest of the burners started making a ruckus fighting over a backpack with skulls on it. "Hey! Dipshits!" He shouted, looking at Dominic as he switched to Spanish. "Los líderes dan a los seguidores lo que necesitan." He made his message clear with a glare, making sure Dominic understood his new roll as a leader.

Dominic backed off, letting the others scrap over the bag while he made sure that no one hurt the others. "Sì, El Jefe."

Claire looked up at him, a question clear in her gaze. "Why are you the boss if you're the younger one?"

Kaylie smiled, patting John on the shoulder. "Because he's the smartest." She ruffled his hair, chuckling as he swatted her away. "And he seems to be in six places at once."

John rolled his eyes. "I just spend a lot of time looking for shit I shouldn't and trying to keep you shitheads out of trouble."

Clarissa sighed, smiling as Amelia came running up to them with a sixty-four pack of Crayola crayons. "Look! It has a sharpener!" She pointed to the little sharpener in the back of the box.

John laughed, picking her up halfway before the pain of his new incision hit him and he had to set her down. "Holy shit!" He exclaimed, wrapping his hand around his side and doubling over in pain. "Ugh…" He groaned, feeling Claire rub circles on his back to try and sooth him in his pain.

She pressed her hand to his side, wishing that she could take his pain away. "Is it bad?" She asked, watching as he nodded. She looked up to her mom, already walking to the back of the store where they had the office chairs. "I'll take him to sit down for a minute."

Clarissa nodded, placing the plain notebook back and picking up the fancy one again. "Alright, I'll get the rest of his stuff for him."

Claire helped John limp to the chairs, praying that he hadn't torn a stitch by lifting the kid. "Is it getting better?" She asked, slipping her hand under his shirt to touch the bandage on his side and check for any blood spots.

He shook his head, breathing so that his cheeks puffed out with the exhale. "Fuck…" He sighed, taking a seat in the chair she pulled up for him.

She nodded, lifting his shirt up just far enough to see the bandage and check it. "Well, it doesn't look like you're bleeding."

John nodded, squeezing his eyes shut against the pain. "That's good."

She picked at the tape around the cotton pad, looking at the wound. "No stitches were popped." She turned to eyes up to his face, kissing his cheek as the pain seemed to start to fade. "Better?"

He nodded, wishing he could scratch at the itchy scab. "It itches."

She smiled, knowing that was a good sign. "Good! It's healing."

He slowly stood, watching as Kaylie and Brian leaned on each other as they shopped, picking out little things they would need, like pencils and other supplies. "Love birds, three o'clock."

Claire chuckled, kissing his neck. "I thought we were the love birds."

John rolled his eyes, leaning down to kiss her lips. "We are, but they're the new ones."

"You're so weird."

He laughed, wincing at the pain it caused him. "But you love me."

She tilted her head. "Debatable." She looked up at him, her version of a burner smirk on her lips. "I don't like you when you smoke as much."

He kissed her, letting her taste that he hadn't been smoking or drinking. "We'll I'm sober now." He smiled, nipping at her lips. "You can taste that much."

She nodded, letting him stick his tongue in her mouth. She returned his movements, tasting him as much as he did her. She could taste his gum, noticing that he'd been chewing the bubblegum flavor instead of mint today. "That's a new flavor." She stated, when the separated.

He shrugged, letting her lead him back to the group. "Thought I'd try something new today."

She smiled, leaning her head on his shoulder. "I like the mint better."

He chuckled, squeezing her hand. "I'll remember that."