Jax POV
The jingling of keys in the front door woke me from a deep sleep on the couch. I hadn't even made it to my room before passing out. My parents walked through the doorway, Adam skulking in behind them. I sat up, rubbing my eyes.
"Everything okay?" I asked pretty sure I knew the answer but not really having anything else to say.
Mom and Dad shared a look, before glancing back at Adam. He looked like he was in shock, though by my inquiry or the recent events, I wasn't sure. He just gave me a nod.
"I'm gonna grab you some sheets for the guest bed, baby. I'll bring them in there in just a minute, okay?" Gemma told him.
"Thanks, Gem."
I wanted to hate him. I wanted to hold on tight to that hate but, for once, it just couldn't gain traction.
Truth be told though, this was the worst possible thing that could've happened as far as things with Tara went. I was sure that this would only push them closer together. Tara had this compulsion to fix broken things, broken people, often to her own detriment. I was certain this would be no exception.
He walked back toward the guest room and I stood up, slicking my hair back with my hands. Dad inclined his head toward Adam, silently commanding me to check on him. Fuck.
Instead, I walked to my room and grabbed a joint. I was about to knock on the guest room door when I heard Adam on the phone.
"Yeah, I saw her," he told whoever was on the other end. "No, she's alright, physically at least."
"No. I'm tired. I'm gonna crash out," he paused. "No-" it sounded like he was cutting someone off. "No, I work tomorrow. I'll… I'll call you when shit dies down." He paused again, longer.
"Tara. I'm good. I just… I'm tired. I….need a few days, get my head right. I'll call you," he told her shortly.
Shit. Of course it was Tara. Though, judging by his tone, he wasn't really happy about it. Asshole. I couldn't be sure what she'd said to him, but I was positive whatever it was, she was just trying to make him feel better. My eavesdropping made it a little easier to hold on to my animosity a little longer.
Instead of knocking, I turned back around to my room. Mom came up behind me at the same time and gave me a disapproving look before knocking on his door.
A few minutes later, she knocked on mine.
"Come in."
"Hey, sweetheart. You doing okay?" she asked me.
"Yeah, mom. For sure. What's up?"
She stepped into the room, shutting the door behind her as she made her way to sit next to me on my navy blue bedspread. She took the unlit joint from me and fired it up.
"I know you're not excited about our new house guest, baby, but I need you to play nice. What happened to his mom… to his dad… terrible shit," she said between inhalations.
"I know, mom."
"What happened to Adam's dad… well, that makes him our responsibility. We have an obligation to him and his mom. His dad put his life on the line for us. We owe him."
"I know, mom," I repeated again.
Her eyes softened with pity as she stared at me.
"I know you care about her, sweetheart. But if you can't have her, don't you want her to be happy? Adam's a nice boy. There are a million other girls out there. Why don't you try dating one of them?" she asked.
I sighed, taking the joint back from her and puffing it slowly.
"It ain't that easy, mom. I know we're not getting back together. It's not about that. If I'm gonna call someone my girl; I need to be able to tolerate her for more than an hour."
I took another hit before adding, "There are a lot of girls, mom, but I want a down ass chick. If she's not down, she's just a piece of ass. That's all those broads will ever be."
"That's alright sweetheart. You're too young for an old lady anyway. You don't need to be in a rush. Just remember; wrap it up! I don't want one of "those broads" bringing home a Teller baby anytime soon." she reminded me sternly.
"I know, mom," I laughed. "I know."
XOXOXOX
It had been a little over a week since Halloween and Tara had made herself scarce. I wasn't even sure she'd made it to school much that first week after the accident. When I finally saw her at lunch the following Monday, she looked worse for wear. She had bags under her eyes; her skin was pale and she had somehow shed what looked like 10 lbs in just a week.
She yawned before pulling her hair up in a wild bun atop her head.
"Whoa, Rocky! You go on a bender or something?" asked Ryan ever so tactfully.
Tara rolled her eyes.
Ryan shrugged, oblivious. "I'm just saying, it looks like you had some fun if you look this rough today and I want some of that shit!"
"No." she smacked, sticking her tongue out at him. "Just haven't been sleeping well, shit head. But thanks for making me feel better."
I smacked him in the back of the head lightly enough that it didn't hurt, but hard enough that he'd realize he was an idiot.
"You talk to you boy? How's he holding up?" he asked. Ryan seriously had no intuition what so ever.
The look Tara gave him could have melted a glacier but she only shrugged.
Ryan looked around at all of us before looking back to Tara in disbelief. "You haven't talked to him?"
Tara opened her mouth, thought the better of it and shut it again before eventually responding. "He's been busy."
"Yeah, unlike some of you, Adam has a job," Kris sassed, though she was obviously just trying to lighten the mood.
"He's staying with you, right?" Ryan asked me. "He didn't come to school today?"
"Shit, I don't know, dude. I'm not his keeper."
"I'm surprised you didn't stay home and play hooky with him," Ryan commented. "Shit, if I had known, I would've!"
I could feel the darkness of Tara's mood churning, brewing like a cataclysmic storm of biblical proportions. I just wanted Ryan to shut the fuck up before Tara's unsettling circulations spun into some F5 tornado-type shit.
"He's got court or some shit. I don't know. He doesn't wanna talk about it and I don't wanna hear about it," I offered.
"Is he coming tomorrow?" he asked Tara.
The blank look on her face broke something in me. I had to wonder if she'd been as fractured when I'd hurt her. Afraid to hear the same brokenness in her voice, my protective instinct took over.
"Why don't you ask him yourself?" I snarled.
Tara's dark eyes flooded with relief and gratitude as Ryan looked between her and me before he shrugged and finally shut his mouth.
Opie broke the tension with a laugh as a JV football player walked by. "Every time I see that guy I can't help but think of the look on his face when Frankie jumped out with that Jason mask on."
It was subtle, but it was just enough to change the subject gracefully without Tara enduring any more of Ryan's idiocy.
XOXOXOX
Eventually the bell rang to signal the end of lunch and we all stood grudgingly.
We started to go our separate ways when Tara stopped abruptly and turned to me.
"I have your book in my locker," she said.
"It's cool. Just keep it. I don't need it," I told her.
"Jax," she scolded disapprovingly. "Something tells me you need Mrs. Schmidt's good will more than I do."
I paused, surveying her face. It was hard to believe that her voice still commanded such authority considering how frail she looked. Maybe it was my imagination, but something in her eyes silently implored me to follow her.
I bowed my head in consent and followed.
The hallways were tight, packed with students filing back and forth. I kept close to her as to not get separated but the proximity burned. Instinctively, I went to place my hand on the small of her back, to guide her through the sea of people like I'd use to, before I caught myself. My fingers twitched in restraint. I could almost feel her melding into me, even though we didn't touch. The static between us raised the hair on my arms. If the sudden goosebumps on her arms were any indication, I knew she felt it too.
She spun the locker dial and pulled on the handle. When it wouldn't budge, she smacked it with her palm. When that didn't work, she smashed it with the butt of her fist. She let out a frustrated sigh. I reached over her and slammed my fist against the pressure point above the handle, lifted the latch and pulled up. It popped open.
I smiled at her.
She rolled her eyes. "Why is it that everything always works for you?"
I shrugged and offered a smile, but the sadness made it more of a grimace. "Not everything."
She nodded and turned back to the locker.
How she could cram so much shit into one tiny space, I'd never know. Piled high with spiral notebooks and text books, it seemed like any open space had something crammed in it; a sweatshirt in case she got cold, a hygiene kit in case her dad kicked her out; a 49ers hat I'd never actually seen her wear; there was even what looked like a small stuffed Garfield squished between books.
The locker walls were a collage of band stickers; Nirvana, No Doubt, Dead Kennedys; the faces of Kurt Cobain and Gavin Rossdale staring broodingly back at me. An odd assortment of psychedelic quarter machine stickers peeked out from any spot not covered in band memorabilia; an alien sitting atop a mushroom, a stoned frog flashing a peace sign, a tie dyed ying yang wrapped in rose thorns. I wasn't sure what the hell she needed that many pens for but countless magnetic pens clung to the metal surface as well. Unlike most girls, Tara didn't have a mirror. I wanted to think it was because she was above that sort of vanity, but I had a feeling it was more of a self-conscious thing.
There were four photographs, one neatly tucked into each corner of the door. A photo of Tara, Kris and their ridiculous pigtails hanging upside down from a jungle gym- they couldn't have been more than eight; a more recent photo of all of us taken in the picnic area; an older photo, with slight bends criss-crossing the frame: Kris, Tara, Opie, Ryan and me – must've been 7th grade. In the lower right corner, where it was hard for anyone to really see unless the door was wide open, was a yellowed Polaroid of Tara, probably three or four years old, sitting on her mom's lap. I was so used to seeing Tara's dad, it kind of stunned me how much Tara took after her mom.
She handed me the text book but didn't make eye contact. She continued staring at the contents of her locker.
"Thanks for shutting Ryan up," she said at last.
I rubbed the back of my head uncomfortably. "Ah, it's not a big deal," I told her.
She closed her locker and looked over at me. "Still. Thank you."
She turned to leave but I wasn't ready for her to go. "Let me walk you to your class."
She smiled wearily, like she wanted to argue but couldn't muster the fight. "You don't have to do that, Jax. I'm good."
"I know, I know," I shot a half smile at her. "You're 'fine' right? Come on, I think you're on the way to my next class anyway."
She eyed me skeptically but it seemed she legitimately didn't have the strength to argue.
We walked in silence the entire way. It wasn't awkward. If anything, it would've been more awkward if we'd tried to frivolously fill the silence. That was one thing I always appreciated about Tara, she wasn't about the bull shit.
We rounded a corner and she stopped in front of one of the doors.
"This is me," she said.
Our eyes locked for a moment. Now it was awkward. Before she had a chance to turn away, I decided to move. I quickly leaned in and gave her a hug. I wasn't trying to make a move. Something in my gut just told me that she needed it. She hesitated at first, but when I didn't pull away she wrapped both arms around me and held on tight. Yeah, she had definitely needed it.
She pulled away and she looked like she was about to fall apart. She quickly put her "I don't give a fuck" face back on and smiled tightly. "Thanks, Jax. I'll see you before bio." Then she turned and walked into the classroom.
XOXOXOX
After school, Opie had tried to get Tara to agree to come back to hang out with us, to no avail. She wasn't sure if we were going to the club house or my house, but Adam could be at either one and I could tell she didn't want to risk it. She'd obviously tried to reach out to him and he had shunned her. Tara wasn't the type to keep throwing herself at you once you'd turned her down. She had more self-respect in that aspect than a lot of girls I'd known.
Frankie told her he would drive her home, but she said no. She said she needed the exercise; fucking bullshit. I couldn't tell if that was just her only out or if her old demons were rearing their ugly heads, but the thought that they might be making a re-appearance made my blood boil. I didn't care if Adam had his own shit going on. It seemed like Tara was probably one of the only people on his team right now and he was throwing her in the trash, like she was yesterday's news.
When we walked in to the club house, Adam was sitting at the bar nursing what looked like whiskey on the rocks. It wasn't usually his style but he must've been wallowing. I didn't care. The look on Tara's face when her fierce façade had briefly slipped was still branded into my retinas.
I immediately started walking toward him. I felt Opie close at my heels.
"What are you doing?" I asked him.
"What does it look like I'm doing?" Adam responded, annoyed and sullen.
"Thought you had work?"
"I called in. What's it to you?" he rebuffed me.
"Well maybe you should give your girlfriend a call."
Adam stared at me blankly.
"Not your business, bro," he replied with an indisputable distaste on the last word.
"Well, I'm making it my business," I glared menacingly. "When was the last time you talked to her? She looks like shit."
Adam turned his stare back to the wall of liquor bottles on the shelves behind the bar before taking another drink. "Like I said, it's not your fucking business."
"And like I said asshole, I'm making it my fucking business."
Adam bit down on a piece of ice and laughed.
"Are you ever gonna let it go?" Adam asked blandly. "She chose me, bro. Me. She's not some tepid damsel in distress. So, I haven't talked to her in a few days. You really think you of all people have any fucking room to lecture me about how I treat Tara?"
I took a step toward him and Opie stuck his arm between us.
"You better watch what the fuck comes out of your mouth next, bro" I spat back.
"Why, cuz I got the girl and you didn't?"
"No, because that girl you've got? You're treating her like shit right now because you're crying over your drunk mommy. Well guess what, Tara's drunk daddy is ten times worse and you don't see her sitting around crying like a little bitch."
Adam stood up so fast the bar stool tipped over, clattering to the ground.
"What the fuck did you say to me?"
"You heard me you fucking pussy."
Adam shoved me, sending me into Opie's chest. I came back swinging, missing my target but still landing a shot squarely on the side of his skull. He came back, missed, went to throw another one and there were arms coming from every direction, breaking us apart.
Bobby and Piney were holding Adam back as I struggled against Otto and my dad.
"Fuck you, motherfucker!" Adam screamed, lunging toward me.
"Bring it, motherfucker!" I challenged. "It's about time you man the fuck up!"
My dad gripped me by the shoulders, staring me in the eyes, pushing me toward the club house exit.
I heard Piney's rough voice "Opie, go with them. Get the hell out of here," he bellowed.
Dad pushed me out the door then released me as I stepped back and shook him off.
"You proud of yourself, son?" he asked staring hard at me.
"You're taking his side?" I balked. "You don't even know what happened."
"I know what happened, son; doesn't take a brain surgeon to figure it out."
I pushed my now dampened hair out of my eyes, still out of breath from the surge of adrenaline.
"What am I going to do with you, kid?" he asked, shaking his head.
The disapproval in his voice made me drop my eyes to the ground.
He turned to Opie. "Go get Frankie and you guys get out of here. The club house isn't a playground for your high school soap opera bull shit."
He looked back at me. "You know your mom's gonna hear about this, right?"
I shrugged.
Dad shook his head. "I should've had girls," he lamented before turning to head back into the clubhouse.
