*This is a little slow to start off, but it will pick up-PROMISE
Chapter 2: The First (Part I)
It was his sixteenth summer and Jax had been patched in after a brutal year as a prospect cleaning up beer bottles and scrubbing toilets for the club. Last year had been tough on the Sons of Anarchy. Their president, John, had tragically passed away, but not before seeding unrest and doubt inside of the club. Despondent and reflective, his last days caused unease and he had distanced himself from club life. Still, his death was felt and mourned by all in the town, but the fractures in the club had remained.
Clay, the former vice president, had now assumed a position of leadership with Piney stepping up as VP. The crotchety old war veteran had grudgingly accepted, but made it clear that he would only be there temporarily. "I'm getting old as balls," he grunted.
Clay then married Gemma only 4 months after the death of John, a move that no one in the club questioned. Clay and Gemma had eyes for each other even before JT had passed away, and even if it was insultingly soon, no one said a damn word. His massive apelike jaw was big and strong and was only shadowed by his even bigger fists. No…things had not been easy for Jax, and Clay wasn't going to baby him.
If anything, he worked him even harder as he knew that pretty boy Jax needed the opportunity to prove himself worthy to the SOA. John's death had been the hardest on Jax, as he idolized his father and had been dreaming of life on a bike and being a SON since before he could remember. So he buried himself in club work and proved himself worthy. His loyalty was unquestionable, cementing the legacy of his father in a positive light. With his daring antics and out of the box thinking, he had saved the club's ass on numerous runs. This earned him a spot as Junior VP, a position specially created for him by Piney.
Jax had grown a hardness over the last year as he started to transition into manhood. Eyes that once had that childish wonder and curious spark now had a steely glint that could burn and intimidate. The runs had taken a toll on his body, shaping him with lean, iron muscles that were made of real strength, and not that superficial cut that fucking around on steroids in the gym bought. Muscles were earned on drug runs and dodging bullets, hauling crates of guns, and turning wrenches at the shop. Strength came from his intelligence, inherited from his father, and his surprisingly compassionate nature. The club respected him, he was undyingly loyal to the club.
He had just grown another three inches in the last year and had started to lose some of that softness in his face, making him a handsome young man. The ladies had not failed to notice him either. With his good looks and flirtatious personality, the girls flocked to Jax…and now he had the cut too. The leather jacket now had the SOA patch replacing "prospect." Pussy was not a problem for Jax.
He hadn't been a virgin since he was fourteen, and then it was awkward and too quick for both parties. They say you always remember your first. Jax couldn't even remember if she was blonde or brunette; he was that hung-over. He had been with a plethora of girls since then, a few of them steady and more than once, but never anything that he would call a relationship. He just liked to have a steady place to stick it every now and then. And he ALWAYS wrapped it up. Gemma had sat him down for the sex talk a year too late, and instead of it being humiliating like he expected, he had laughed as his mom grilled him about condoms and then gave him pointers in sweet talk. He kind of brushed her off, but after he caught Tig in the bathroom with his pants down sporting a raw looking rash, he made sure that he always had condoms on his person.
Summer was almost over and Opie and he were getting ready to go back to school. Only now they both would have the cut. Opie was a year older than him and had been his best friend since they were two rough little kids hanging around the Teller Moore Garage. He was not looking forward to going back to school and considered dropping out. It was sophomore year and he was lucky to have passed freshman term. The endless toil of being a prospect meant that he continually skipped class, never did his homework, and usually ended the day in a fight. This was usually remedied by Gemma storming over to the school and shoving her stiletto in the principal's ass. However, there was going to be a new principal this year, and she was notorious for being tough as nails, having reformed and cleaned up several schools in the toughest hoods in Oakland. He had a feeling that this year, he might have to put a little effort into his schoolwork, but still, it would always be second to the club…just like everything else.
Jax woke up that morning with 15 minutes until class started. He hopped in the shower, brushed his teeth, and threw on a white tee and baggy jeans. Blonde hair stuck out in outrageous directions as he violently rubbed his towel through his hair. As usual, he didn't bother with a comb, and the straw colored locks would dry with that carefree messy look that most guys tried to have on purpose. It was growing almost past his ears now. He popped on his cut and ran to his bike, already five minutes late and about ten minutes in between himself and the school. He would have to speed to get there, not a problem with Jax at all.
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On the other side of town, in a less wealthy neighborhood, Tara Knowles had already been awake for a good hour. She had showered, brushed, and her auburn tresses were neatly combed back into a clean ponytail. She had ironed and pressed her clothes and had started breakfast on the stove for her and her father. He was still passed out on the couch after a date with a bottle of Jack Daniels. She picked up some of his socks and pieces of trash, straightening out the house as was her usual duty.
She had a simple breakfast of eggs and toast, wrapping a plate for her dad and putting a bottle of water on the coffee table to help with his hangover when he woke up. She would be saddened by how comfortable she was with this routine, but she genuinely loved her father. Patrick Knowles was a good man, but had taken to the drink when his wife died seven years ago. He worked hard, but remained distant, choosing to live in the memory of Tara's mother. Patrick was a notorious packrat, keeping many of his wife's things, refusing to put the past away and move on. When it became too difficult, he would drown his sorrows with alcohol.
Tara quickly learned how to take care of the house and to move the furniture when her dad came stumbling in the house. She knew that 3 aspirins and a bottle of water would help a grown man nurse a hangover, and to have a spare trashcan nearby if he passed out too far away from the bathroom. She learned how to cook and clean and it turned her into a mature woman in a sixteen year old body. Tara didn't really mind nursing her dad. She actually enjoyed taking care of him; it gave her a sense of satisfaction and a determination that things would be better for her when she grew up. The drinking was only a problem when he brought his friends over to the house. On too many occasions, the more lecherous looking ones would eye her blossoming body up and down. The thought made her skin crawl.
She studied hard in school and was very disciplined. Money was tight in the household and she knew that she had to earn a scholarship to pay for college. Straight As had ensured that she remained painfully friendless at her school, not that she minded any. She had many acquaintances, but no one that she could really confide in. Bottled down, her feelings were locked down and pushed away as she drilled into her studies as a coping mechanism.
After making sure that her dad was taken care of, Tara walked to the bus stop, five minutes early, of course. She was chilly in the cool air of six a.m. School would start in another hour and the next forty five minutes would be spent on the ridiculously long bus ride. It was moist outside which meant it would be humid as hell when the sun finally came up. She didn't mind and spent most of her ride going over her schedule and trying to imagine what her classes would be like. She had heard that they were going to have a new principal this year, and hopefully she would straighten out a lot of the riff raff that was going on in the school. She finally arrived at Charming High School with the bus full of chattering kids. A girl named Donna Gates had sat by her because of the packed volume, and she made pleasant conversation, but after all the normal niceties were made, there was an awkward silence. They both got off the bus and said goodbye.
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Tara had made it through first the day well enough, and her last class for the day was English, which she did pretty well in. Arriving first in class because she did not waste time to chat in the hallways and flutter about, she sat nervously; the day was almost over. She cracked open her book and pulled out a neatly labeled notebook and pencil. It was almost obsessive compulsive. People began to fill up the class room and soon the bell rang to start class. The teacher was a beady eyed balding man named Mr. Lecher. He was a mousy man and prone to shaky hands and panicky quirks. He passed out the books and started to drone on about the goals and curriculum of his class.
"Well, if it isn't Miss Goody Two Shoes," said a throaty voice. Tara was writing and snapped her pencil tip off when she heard that familiar voice. She whipped her head around to her right and noticed Natalie Givens, the blonde haired, busty school slut. She was notoriously bitchy too, but her talent for spreading her legs had made her quite popular in school.
"Hello, Natalie," Tara replied dryly. Natalie was about to say something snippy, but Tara caught the look on her face as her scowl became a smile when a certain someone walked through the door.
Jax Teller strolled into English class five minutes late per usual, and strutted to the back of the room where Natalie had puffed out her chest to show off her ample cleavage. She was eyeing him like a starving tiger would a fat zebra. Tara watched as he seductively stroked her chin as he walked by taking the seat behind her. Tara could feel the sexual energy he gave off from the moment he entered the room.
"Jackson Teller, you are five minutes late," stammered Mr. Lecher.
"Yeah, sorry teach, had to take care of some business," he said casually. Mr. Lecher called him up to his desk to hand him his book and Tara took that moment to get up and sharpen her pencil. When she was done she started to walk back to her desk just as Jax turned around with his book in hand. He turned a little too sharply and bumped right into Tara's outstretched hand with her newly sharpened pencil.
"Ahhh SHIT!" he quipped. Her pencil had hit him at an odd angle and left a greasy graphite line on his pristine white shirt. A tiny drop of blood blossomed from where the pencil tip had snapped of and poked his skin. Tara was mortified.
"Oh my God! I am sooo sorry, are you okay?" she said.
"Yeah, darling, it's nothing, really," he said, and in truth, it was just a scratch and didn't hurt. He was just noticing for the first time who he was looking at. He took in her ivory skin and lips that were too pink and all of the sudden she was the most fascinating thing in the world.
"Nonono, you're bleeding; we have to have the nurse take a look at that," she said and he interrupted his focus on her pouty lips when an idea suddenly formed in his head.
"You're right, it's really starting to sting now, and look at the blood," he said in mock pain, and Tara paled even further, "Mr. Lecher, don't you think that she should escort me to the Nurse's office?"
"Why-why yes, you should go," he said, dismissing them from class. Tara quickly walked to her desk and was surprised when Natalie stood up and grabbed a hold of her wrist.
"Really, the nurse's office? You did that on purpose. You just fucked up his shirt so you'd have an excuse to touch him!" hissed Natalie. Tara sniffed angrily and shoved her things into her backpack. Jax walked over to her to see if she was ready to "escort" him. "Jaxy-baby, she really messed up your favorite shirt, didn't she. Look she stained up the white, and you know Tara doesn't have a mom and her dad's a drunk. She can't pay to get you a new one," she said cattily. Jax simply looked down at his shirt and frowned before shrugging, but Tara was pissed and her headstrong side emerged. It only took a moment for the harshness of her words to fuel Tara into to bitch-mode.
"Well, from what I hear from half the guys in the school, you could suck that shirt clean with that STD infested mouth of yours. Come on, Jackson, before your wound gets infected," she said smartly. She then grabbed Jax's hand in a bold move and walked out the classroom. The other kids started laughing, but they were drowned out by Jax's boisterous laugh as he followed Tara out the room. "Sorry about that," she continued, and she became painfully aware of the fact that she was holding hands with an extreme stranger. "She just really irks me." Tara shyly pulled her hand out of his and they walked down the halls, but Jax was going the wrong direction. "Uuuummm, Nurse's office is this way," she called after him.
"Well, the bitch was right unfortunately. I think this is gonna stain. Come with," he said as he pulled up to the water fountain. The halls were empty and Tara awkwardly introduced herself. "I'm Jackson Teller, but everybody just calls me Jax," he said, and then he pulled off his cut and handed it to Tara. He then surprised the hell out of Tara and pulled off his shirt completely. She let her jaw drop as she took in his golden skin and taught abs. Jax smirked and rinse his shirt off in the fountain. "Well, it looks like most of it's rinsing out, my mom can take care of the rest," he said smoothly. Tara just stood quietly and maybe nodded her head. A red blush began to creep up her neck, and Jax thought it was adorable. He was having fun pushing her buttons, he discovered. He then rinsed off the tiny little scratch on his torso.
After he wrung out his shirt, he pressed into Tara's personal space, his bare chest radiating heat. He was happy to find that she didn't back up and met his gaze with those piercing eyes. He was about to say something suggestive when a sharp voice echoed down the hall and jolted them out of the moment.
"STUDENTS!" yelled a voice, and they realized that it was coming from a rather stern looking Black woman in a very sharp looking suit. She was fuming. "What is going on here?" Jax boldly stepped forward and explained the situation, suddenly very aware that he was half naked. Tara noticed a blush flood his back and torso as they realized that they were talking the new Principal. Fixing her eyes on Jax's back, she curiously let her eyes trace the elaborate ink that made up the massive expanse of his back. She looked at the foreboding grim reaper with his bloody sickle and suddenly realized that she was talking to THE JAX TELLER: notorious man-whore, trouble maker, and prince of the local motorcycle gang that ran the town. She was a little taken back by how nice he seemed.
"Well, it is clear that there is an extreme lack of discipline and order in this school. Both of you have detention, one hour, after school," she said. They both started up at the unfairness of it, but she cut them off, "Mr. Teller, you are clearly out of compliance with the school's dress code, and Miss Knowles, you were about to engage in a lewd activity."
"What the hell?" interrupted Jax, but Principal Skinner cut him off again.
"Okay, let's make it a week's worth of detention-another word and I'll make it a month," she yelled. Jax lurched forward, but Tara had wrapped her arm around his waist to hold him back. It seemed the natural thing to do. They both kept silent as the principal walked away with a quick snapping of her heels.
"I've never had detention before," said Tara, a little lost and embarrassed by the situation.
"Well, I've been plenty of times," said Jax, "it's easy, and there's a first time for everything."
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Tara Knowles had been home for a week. She had made the physical move from Chicago back to Charming after spending more than a decade away. But she was scared and disoriented and needed something to ground her back into reality. Joshua Kohn was her ex and disturbed her more than anything she had ever experienced. She had to get away. She needed to go home, to feel safe again.
She didn't want to think of the one she left behind, the man she loved. JAX TELLER, her mind whispered to her. She was broken hearted at the way things were left between them, and she refused to hope that he would be single. It was the most secret desire in her heart, even after ten years, but she would never acknowledge or admit it. Every time she pictured her future, it was with him in it, so she decided not to think about it at all. She was a doctor, and they dealt in logic, not the impossible.
She delved into her work to cope with the emptiness that she felt. She tried to convince herself that things were better off since she left. She wasn't in jail and didn't have to deal with all the crazy shit that came with being in the club. She was a prestigious doctor and she respected herself. Sometimes the lies were enough…most of the time they weren't.
She woke out of lie on her third day back in town. She had moved into her father's old place and had to deal with the physical and mental clutter that the place brought. Everywhere she was haunted by old photographs and the ghosts of the life that had been. The memories came flooding back, but she didn't allow them to affect her meticulous work as she dusted away and sorted through the fragments of the past. That is, until she came across a box in her old bedroom closet. She opened it up and looked in on a box of old pictures…of her and Jax.
She remembered sealing away this box on the day she left, with instructions left for her father to give it to Jax. Apparently, he had forgotten. She was jolted into a numbing shock as she picked up the crinkled photo. It was of her and Jax sitting on his Harley. He looked so young and innocent, and she looked…happy. She fought back the tears that were stinging her eyes. She had cried for days after she left Charming, and then again when her father passed away…and she hadn't cried since then. Not when Joshua started leaving dead roses on her doorstep, not on the anniversary of her mother's death…she wouldn't start because she didn't think she could stop if she let herself mourn the loss of the love of her life. She looked at Jax on the bike; he looked so at home there. Briefly, she thought back to the first time she rode one. It was on the day she had first met Jax.
She put it away, saving the memory for another time. She inhaled sharply as she pulled out a familiar blue flannel shirt. It was first thing she had ever bought him, and he quickly declared it his favorite. She pulled it out and spread it on her bed reverently. Slowly, she undid the buttons…No, she couldn't let herself go there. She pulled away from the hypnotizing image of the blue flannel on her white bedspread. She then realized how sweaty and sticky she felt from doing all that moving and decided to take a quick shower.
She emerged feeling somewhat calmer and more relaxed, but paused when she saw that shirt still lying there on the bed. Her mind tricked and teased her with his image lying there, filling the shirt, and she let a single tear fall. Maybe she would let herself go…just this once. She let her towel fall to the floor and pulled the shirt up to her face, inhaling deeply. She knew that the decade spent locked up in a box would cause his scent to be lost, but her heart vividly coached her into remembering his manly smell. Motor oil, sandalwood, soap, and just a slight hint of tobacco; it was delicious and completely Jackson Teller. Jax…
She pulled the flannel shirt over her naked body and let herself imagine it was him wrapped around her body, his strong arms holding her tightly. She always loved how close he would get, like they were anchoring each other to the world. She closed her eyes and remembered.
Rough calloused hands smoothed up and down her arms, raising goose bumps. He dipped his fingers in the cleft of her womanhood and teased her slowly. Their foreheads were touching and he was looking straight into her eyes, straight into her soul as he pleasured her body.
She dipped her fingers down her taught stomach, penetrating the emptiness that she was left with, feeling the wetness of life and lust between her legs. Her other hand his handsfondled her breasts, massaging them, bringing her nipples to hardened peaks. He brought his hot mouth over the nipple and suckled hard, causing her to cry out. He rubbed his dick against her pelvis, begging for entry and she widened her legs for him she widened her legs and pumped two fingers rapidly in and out in and out he thrusted with a desperate and frantic pace- she was so close, she used her other hand to touch her clitoris he used his hand to circle her clit until she came he came inside her and bucked and felt herself spasm around her fingers.
She was coming down after her high. After they made love, he would hold her close and kiss her face, stroke her head, LOVE her. Now she was left spent and painfully alone, ashamed at what she had done, at how pathetic she felt. Tears trickled down her face and dripped off her cheeks and neck, the collar of the shirt catching a few strays. She pulled the flannel tight around her body and started sob, wet, heaving pressure pumping through her lungs and chest. She opened her mouth and started wailing because she missed him, because she left him, because he wouldn't leave with her…but mostly because she realized that she was still in love with him and always would be. For the first time in ten years, Tara cried.
A/N: Love it? Hate it? Let me know, feedback motivates me to write. I just wanted to bring up some points. Firstly, I will try to keep everyone in character. Some things may seem OOC, but it's mostly because I want to portray the characters as younger and a little less wise to the world. In my mind Tara is this meticulous doctor and that had to have come from childhood habits. But we also know she had a wild streak from being in the club and that she was even arrested several times. Jax is new to the club and hasn't had the moral issues that he does in the first episode of season 1. This is all the life he knows and he's cocky and flirtatious. Things haven't gotten as bad for him as of yet, so he's still somewhat optimistic. And I love writing Gemma. She's sooooo bipolar batshit crazy, but it all stems from her Mama Bear protective instincts. More to come, stay tuned! Reviews will be rewarded with faster updates! THANKS!