A.N.: Wow! Reviews! To Blonde, Cass D and Finngirl, Thank you! I hope you keep enjoying this story, and love Finn just as much as me! I guess some of the themes in this story, as compared with my Molly Meade story, are a little more mature, mostly because I've had a year at university living by myself in a boy-girl house where two of my housemates hooked up (*much drama and awkwardness and us hating them for taking up the whole biggest sofa!) so I have that experience behind me now!


Rose Amongst Thorns

Chapter Eight

Romeo Foiled


Blissful sleep! Rose fell asleep almost instantly after climbing into bed. She had a small fan on gradual, and with the window open a crack, the hundreds of crickets who lived in the brook at the bottom of the McGowans' backyard serenaded her. The gentle evening breeze stirred the leaves of the trees of the wood beyond the brook, and Rose slept restfully for the first time in weeks.

She had a very strange dream, though; Doug was in it. Just Doug, sitting on a chair, with a glass coffee-table in front of him, and he kept dropping that big crystal earring of his onto the glass, and whispering her name, over and over again, his sense of urgency contrasting the relaxed way he sat, and how he kept dropping that earring over and over again, so it clicked against the glass of the coffee-table.

"Rosie!" Rose woke up, blinking blearily, disoriented in the darkness; the crickets had calmed somewhat, but she could still hear the gentle breeze through the trees—or was it just the fan? She heard the whisper again, her name, and something made fear prickle the fine hairs on her arms and the back of her neck…

Carefully, so she didn't make any noise or trip over one of her still-not-unpacked boxes, she crept over to the window and threw open the curtains. And suffered a minor heart-attack. A white face shone in the moonlight in the midst of the foliage of the tree, straddling a tree-branch and looking like he might very soon fall off. Rose stifled a yell and jumped back from the window, her heart going faster than it ever had during a cross-country meet, fear and shock jump-starting adrenaline through her veins, and she almost buckled onto one of her boxes when her knees touched against the cardboard.

"Evan!" she whispered, staring, clutching her hands to her chest, where her heart was pounding painfully against her ribcage. She went back to the window and opened it. "What are you doing?"

"Hey Rosie," Evan smiled, and the smile was tipsy.

"You're not going to start serenading me or anything, are you?" Rose asked warily. She glanced down at the ground, but there was no-one else waiting down on the lawn.

"No," Evan whispered a chuckle. "You didn't put the key back under the mat."

"Oh."

"Can you open the screen?"

"Why don't I just go and open the back-door?" Rose whispered.

"Nah, I couldn't get down from here again," Evan said, and the tree-branch wobbled as if in agreement. On closer inspection, Rose realised Evan was a little tipsier than she'd first thought.

"How'd you get home?"

"Hm? Oh, Vithya drove me," Evan smiled good-naturedly, swinging his legs.

"Where's your car?"

"In Logan."

"Why…? Okay, hold on…" Rose frowned at the contraption keeping the mosquito screen in place over the window, unlocked it, and slit it aside.

"Thanks," Evan whispered, and the tree-branch creaked softly as he shimmied toward her along it, grabbed hold of the window-ledge, and tried to climb through the window. Rose had to grab hold of one of his arms and the back of his belt to haul him through when he was in severe danger of overestimating his own abilities in balancing and flight, and they had almost got him successfully through the window when it happened; Evan's foot slipped, and instead of falling out of the window, he fell in, with an enormous crash, right into Rose's boxes, with a floor-shuddering, echoing BANG that resounded through the house, adding to the great cry of pain from Evan, having fallen onto a box full of hardback books. The box with her favourite plush toys she'd had since she was a baby was a foot to Evan's left, unharmed.

"What in the hell—?"

A light clicked on in the hallway, and a second later John, in a pair of long pyjama bottoms, came surging into the bedroom, wielding a baseball bat like it was a lethal weapon, eyes wide and alarmed.

"Evan?"

"Ouch. Dad?"

The baseball bat lowered. Rose stared from Evan, in a heap of broken cardboard and scattered books, to John, who got that look in his eyes that Rose's father did when she was a long way down that creek without paddles.

"Is this a nightmare, or is it after one in the morning, and is my son climbing in through our sixteen-year-old ward's bedroom-window?" John asked, glaring at Evan. Evan winced.

"Crap," he mumbled.

"Just digging the hole deeper, Ev," John said warningly. "Get to your room, now. Your mother and I will discuss this with you tomorrow."

"Sorry," Evan whispered to her, and, shoulders sloped, head tucked down in shame, Evan tripped out of Rose's bedroom. Suddenly she felt exhausted, and the prickling fear and adrenaline rush that had come from being frightened out of her life was ebbing, replaced by the very great anxiety of what was going to happen next—to Evan, to her, for being an accomplice.

"Rose, I am so sorry about this," John said, frowning after his son. He stalked over to Rose's window and latched the screen back in place.

"It's alright," Rose mumbled, with a wide yawn.

"Well…goodnight," John grumbled, making sure the window was secured and locked, brushed a hand over her shoulder, and then closed the bedroom door behind him. Rose stood for a few seconds, blinking, trying to figure out what had just happened. She shook her head slightly, went to open the window a crack to let the breeze in, and went back to bed, thinking it was all just some weird dream.


Downstairs in the kitchen the next morning, fighting Caleb for the box of Lucky Charms, Rose realised it hadn't been a dream. Firstly, the spare key was still on the counter by the door where she had left it after letting herself into the house last night. And secondly, Evan had been called into John's study with Regina as soon as he'd finished his breakfast. Rose finished her breakfast, took some snacks, filled her water-bottle, wiped Caleb's nose, and picked her Baker High parking-permit out of her wallet.

"Who's gonna take us to school?" Doug asked, chomping inelegantly on Cap'n Crunch. "Where's the Saab?"

"Evan left it in Logan," Rose remarked, without thinking; Doug shot her a nasty look, as if the question had been put forth for anyone but her to hear.

"How'd you get home last night?" Finn asked. "You weren't climbing in through your bedroom-window last night."

"Jake Salvatore gave me a ride home on his motorcycle," Rose said.

"Jake Salvatore?" Doug sneered. "That dude will hit on anything that moves."

"Really?" Rose mumbled, her cheeks flushing, but not from embarrassment or humiliation; fire. She didn't like the way Doug mimicked her at the dinner-table, or how the only expressions he could put on when he saw her were deepest loathing and utter contempt. "Do you and he have unresolved issues we should know about?" Finn laughed; Doug glowered, and a faint flush appeared in his cheeks.

"How're we getting to school?" Doug repeated, looking pointedly away from Rose.

"I guess Mom could…"

"In the minivan?"

"I'll drive," Rose said quietly; Finn and Doug both glanced at her. Finn flashed her a smile; Doug, a contemptuous sneer.

"In that pile of shit out by the barn?"

"Douglas Arnold McGowan!" Regina strode into the kitchen, looking like she was on a vendetta.

"I know that face; that face is not our friend," Finn breathed, tucking a notebook into his backpack, glancing at Rose. Regina smacked Doug upside the back of the head.

"Rose, if you wouldn't mind, it would be really helpful if you'd drive yourself and the boys to school today," Regina said softly, her face softening as she glanced at Rose. "Since Evan didn't seem to think his car valuable enough to bring home last night."

"I can drive; it's no problem," Rose said quietly. "You don't mind some of the boys in the truck-bed, do you?"

"We have insurance," Regina shrugged, and winked at Rose when her sons let out splutters of disbelief.

"Oh, that's nice, Mom," Finn said, pretending to pout and cry.

Rose, Finn, Doug and Miller walked out to the truck; Miller instantly took a seat in the front, and Finn took the other; the front of the truck had three seatbelts, and was big enough for the three of them to sit comfortably; Finn turned the stereo on, and they waited while the air-conditioning warmed up for Evan. Doug was listening to enormous headphones in the bed of the truck, sprawled out lazily.

"You like Whitesnake?" Finn asked, as the CD came on; Finn goggled, astounded. Rose blushed.

"Yes. Why? Don't you like them? You can change the CD if you want," she flushed.

"No—no, I like 'em," Finn smiled. "I just wouldn't have thought you would."

"What kind of music d'you think I'd like?" Rose asked, blushing.

"I don't know; the kind of mainstream stuff Evan listens to," Finn shrugged. "Hip-Hop and pop and R&B. That kinda stuff."

"Sometimes I do. I like all kinds of stuff," Rose said, playing with the steering-wheel. "It depends on my mood. I can listen to classical and opera one day and metal the next."

"You got an iPod?" Finn asked, and Rose dug it out of her bag and handed it to him, so he could look through her music. A few minutes later, Evan tripped down the porch steps following Caleb and Ian, who walked hand-in-hand to the bus-stop

"Oh dear," Finn tutted, looking out the back window at Evan as he glowered and climbed into the truck-bed, tossing down his backpack. Rose glanced at Finn and caught his eye.

"Were your parents really mad?"

"The worst of the shouting was over before you turned your hair-dryer off," Finn shrugged. "Come on, we'd better go. He needs Hailey ASAP."

"For some repentant wound-licking?" Rose tutted, surprising a laugh out of Finn.

"Urgh. If you must put that image in my mind, yeah, probably," Finn grimaced. Rose put the truck in reverse, built up revs, and reversed away from the barn, put it into first, turned and drove down the road, smiling at Caleb and Ian as they glanced over their shoulders, looking where the roar of Rose's truck-engine had come from.

"Ooh, but that's a purty sound," Finn sighed. Miller remained silent, his eyes on his sneakers. "You work on your truck yourself?"

"Yeah. My daddy taught me about engines. He said if I couldn't tune a carburettor or change a tyre, I couldn't have a car," Rose said, and now she was exceptionally glad of her dad insisting she spend all that time draining oil and getting grease all over her hands and under her fingernails. She had had to change a tyre on the drive up from North Carolina, and had really impressed Regina, who, since she had eight males under her thumb, didn't really need to worry about that kind of stuff.

"Well, I can't do either of those, and I'm a guy, so I really shouldn't even have my licence," Finn chuckled. Following Finn's directions, Rose drove toward school; she tried not to dwell on Miller's awkward silence, sitting between her and Finn.

"You're a disgrace to your sex," Rose teased, and Finn laughed. Rose thought she might have caught a tiny flicker of a smile on Miller's lips from the corner of her eye, but she couldn't be sure.

"I can't help it. Sean's the engine-buff," Finn smiled.

"I noticed the Harley in the garage," Rose said quietly. "Is it Sean's?"

"Yeah, it is his life, it is his passion," Finn sighed.

"It is his fault he did not lock the garage," Rose quoted, and Finn laughed.

"You've seen Ferris Bueller!"

"Who hasn't!"

For the rest of the ride to school, they talked about movies, and music, and Finn being an inadequate excuse for a man. Miller didn't speak, but Rose felt sure he was listening.


At lunchtime, Rose got a phone-call from Regina.

"Hi Rosie. You're at lunch, right?"

"Yes ma'am."

"Oh, good. I don't want your cell being taken away."

"No, I'm at lunch. What's up?"

"I hate to ask this, but since Evan has to get his car after school and he's got lacrosse-practice, I'm in a bit of a bind; John can't get away from work, and I have to go to a meeting with Miller's teachers, but Caleb has a soccer game this afternoon."

"You'd like for me to go and collect him?" Rose smiled.

"If you could, that would be so great," Regina gushed, sounding relieved. "I know you haven't been around town at all yet, so I didn't want to have to ask—"

"Where's he playing?" Rose asked, smiling to herself. She got her assignment log out of her bag and flipped to the day's section, and Regina gave her directions to the city sports-park from school.

"I'll call Caleb's coach and let him know to expect you instead of me," Regina said. "They finish just after you finish with practice, but don't rush."

"I won't. I'll see you this afternoon," Rose said, smiling to herself.

"Oh, you are just too sweet; thank you, Rosalie," Regina said. Rose hung up, opened her Activia fruit-compote yoghurt, and finished The Blue Lagoon before the bell rang for class.


Hailey was in a bad mood during practice; she kept jostling Rose, and once shoved her hard between the shoulder-blades, so that while Rose's head snapped back, her body fell forward, and she bit dirt, hard. But Rose just got up and caught up with Hailey, and outstripped her to prove a point. She could bully Rose all she wanted, but Rose wasn't going to give her the satisfaction of seeing how much it affected her.

Rose showered and forewent drying her hair and doing her makeup to walk to the junior parking-lot with Pearl, whose little Ford Ka waited for her, glistening bright-red and brand-new, and who had given Rose yet another bracelet, this one in subtle, pretty silvers and greys and pale-blues, which Pearl had said were the same colour as Rose's eyes. She said goodbye to Pearl, climbed into her truck, took out the directions to the sports park, and drove over there.

All she had to do was find the team with the littlest players, in black and gold uniforms. They were playing a team in green and yellow. Caleb had the ball when Rose got there; she parked and walked across the short stretch of grass to the edge of the marked pitch, and smiled at the soccer moms cheering their kids on.

"So, you must be Lily Meade's kid," one of them said, and Rose glanced up; she was blonde, her hair freshly blown out, and her makeup was impeccable.

"Er, yes ma'am," Rose said shyly. Who was this woman.

"You've got all her looks," the woman smiled; she offered her hand. "I'm Sherry. I went to school with your mommy."

"Oh. Hi," Rose smiled, shaking her hand.

"So, you here for Caleb?" Sherry asked, and Rose nodded, glancing at the pitch, where Caleb was tearing down the field with the soccer-ball, outstripping everyone else on the team. Since they were only six years old, maybe seven, that didn't really say much, but she could tell he'd be another athlete like Evan.

"Yes ma'am. Regina asked me to pick him up. She has a meeting with Miller's teachers," Rose said.

"I don't know how she does it, with all those boys," Sherry sighed, shaking her head. "She's run ragged most days. I'll bet she loves having you around, though."

"She did enjoy going in the girly stores at the mall," Rose said, cheeks flushing pleasantly when she smiled. Sherry laughed.

"I can imagine. Hey, will you ask Regina about the safari-dinner? She'll know what I mean," Sherry smiled. "Go on, Caleb!"

Caleb had neared the goal; he stuck his tongue out in concentration and gave the ball great thumping kick, and it soared over the goalie's head into the goal. Rose smiled and cheered and clapped with the moms, and a few minutes later, the whistle blew, and the red-and-white team congregated around their youthful-looking coach, whom Rose knew from Sherry was in the Army, and off to Afghanistan for a third tour soon. His son played left-forward. Caleb was centre forward. Rose would have to remember all the positions. Caleb's team—the Tigers—had won the match; Caleb had scored two of the three goals, and the coach handed each of the players a ticket for a snack and drink at the snack-shack over by the baseball diamonds.

"Hi, Caleb," Rose smiled, when he came bounding over. "You got two goals!"

"And Billy only got one!" Caleb grinned. Rose smiled and offered her hand for a high-five.

"Up top—now below," she smiled, and he slapped her palm twice, grinning from ear to ear.

"Can we go to the snack-shack now?" Caleb asked eagerly. Rose shrugged.

"Does your mom let you?"

"Yup."

"Okay, well…I guess," Rose said, shrugging, and Caleb latched onto her hand to drag her towards the baseball diamonds at the other end of the park, where the snack-shack was open and in full swing, selling burgers and slushies and candy and nachos and Gatorades. Caleb handed Rose his ticket, and she handed it to the teenager behind the counter.

"What do you want, Caleb?" she asked.

"Blue Gatorade!" Caleb said decisively, already licking his lips in expectation; Rose asked for a blue Gatorade, and hoisted Caleb onto her hip so he could see the candy selection. He chose a foot-long Red Rope liquorice candy. Rose paid for a glass of cloudy Minute Maid lemonade from the soda fountain and an apple, and Caleb clung on to the folds of her floor-length cream floral flounced strapless maxi-dress as they walked back to the truck.

"Don't eat it all at once; you'll be sick," Rose said, holding onto the Gatorade as Caleb tore open the candy and started chomping great bites of it off.

"No I won't!"

"Yes, you—never mind," Rose smiled, and unlocked the truck so Caleb could clamber inside, with great exclamations of awe and delight over the truck. He drained half the Gatorade when Rose made him sit and take a drink, wiped his mouth on his overlong sleeve, and put his seatbelt on when Rose threatened they wouldn't leave if he didn't. He was a sweet kid; she asked him about his game, and he gossiped on and on about the players, and this guy's mom and what he'd had for dinner at their house, and how many cookies that mom let him have, and how cool that guy's big brother was, because "he's not like Evan; he doesn't shove me off the Xbox if he wants to play a different game."

"Well, you shouldn't let him push you off it," Rose said. "You're a Tiger. Can you roar?" Caleb demonstrated, and Rose laughed; they took the long way—the way Rose knew—back to the McGowan house, Caleb pointing out that going up Bernal would have been quicker; Rose only knew the way that involved going past Baker High, which was now deserted.

Rose parked up by the barn and she and Caleb made their way over to the house; they hadn't gotten to the stairs before Regina called them into the living-room. Caleb glanced up at Rose, pulled an anxious face, and slunk into the living-room.

"Hey guys," Regina said, as Rose entered the huge, airy room. "We're having a family meeting." All of the boys—even Sean—were sitting on the couches like they were waiting at a doctor's office; stiff, wary of their diagnosis. There was a space between Finn and Doug, where Rose knew she fit in height-wise; like the toiletries and food, Miller was in charge of seating arrangements. Regina and John stood in front of the fireplace, arms crossed over their chests. Evan caught her eye, and with his eyes gave her a sort of apology.

"Caleb, go sit with Ian. Rose, would you sit next to Finn, please," Regina said, and Rose heard in her voice the tone of an Army General. Caleb unlatched from the skirt of her dress, put his Gatorade and half-eaten Red Rope on the coffee-table, and hopped onto the ottoman next to Ian, whose eyes had gone straight to the candy. Rose picked her way through the long, sprawled legs of the boys and settled uncomfortably between Finn and Doug. Doug sighed irritably and made an elaborate show of shifting, turning his knees away from her so that no part of his body touched hers, not even her dress. His move only pressed her further into Finn's side.

"Sorry," Rose murmured, blushing.

Finn cleared his throat. "No problem," he said quietly, lifting his arm and draping it on the back of their couch to give them both more room.

"Okay, I'm sure you all know why we're here," John began. Rose figured it was either something about Evan getting home past midnight through her bedroom window, or her and Evan not getting home at all. "Your mother and I know that you guys are all doing your best to make Rosalie feel welcome." Rose blinked. They were? She'd hate to see what them not making an effort felt like! Doug let out a grunt that only Rose heard. Finn shifted slightly, pressing himself into the arm of the couch.

"We were hoping we weren't going to have to have this conversation," John said heavily; "We were hoping we could trust you guys to set a good example. But Evan's behaviour last night has forced our hand."

"Nice one, loser," Doug said. He pulled out a biro, uncapped it with his teeth, and started doodling on his jeans.

"We expect better—from all of you. Doug, stop drawing on those denims," Regina said coolly. "While it was very good of you to stop Evan from breaking his neck last night, Rose, we don't want you put in the position where you might get in trouble because of our boys."

"I wasn't—I mean, it isn't—" Rose didn't really know what to say. Regina smiled kindly at her, but when she turned her eyes onto her sons, they flashed.

"Don't think that just because Rosalie has moved into this house we'll go softer on you guys," John said, frowning around the room. "We expect you guys to treat Rose with the respect you would your mom, got it? And when she's with you, you're to watch out for her as if she were your sister."

Sister. Wonderful, Rose blushed.

"Hm. Incest," Doug remarked, scanning his eyes over Rose as if he was memorising every single curve and flaw of her body. Finn smacked him round the head, as Rose stifled a shudder, and Regina and John both shouted at Doug, Evan laughed, Sean smirked, and Miller looked steadfastly at a knot in the wood floor at his feet.

"Do you understand?" John glowered. Doug raised his hands palms out.

"Yeah, hands off Megan, we got it," Doug said. "Can we go now?"

"Wait! Does that include Caleb?" Ian asked, cracking up at his own joke.

"Okay, wise guy, you just got yourself trash duty for a week," Regina said, narrowing her eyes. Doug started to rise from the couch.

"We're not done yet," John said, and Doug dropped back onto the sofa with a huge aggravated sigh.

"I know you're all used to having the run of the house around here, but that changes as of right now," John said, raising his voice slightly. "Rosalie's parents trusted us to care for her, and that was a big thing they're trusting us with." Rose flushed bright red; she could feel the heat emanating from her cheeks. "As of right now, you will all start respecting her privacy, and her property. That means no going into her room without permission, no touching her things, and from now on, the oak tree out back is off-limits."

"No fair!" Caleb cried.

"That's the climbing-tree!" Ian added. Rose flushed hotter.

"You guys can still climb it," Regina amended, seeing their wide-eyed, hurt expressions. "Daddy just means it's off-limits after dark." She shot Evan a dangerous look.

"And we're going to have a curfew," John said. Last but definitely not least; Rose shrank into the couch, knowing what would follow that announcement; absolute bedlam; Doug, Evan, even mild-mannered Finn were shouting out their opinions.

"Sean never had a curfew!" Doug shouted. "That's crap!"

"Rosalie's parents didn't give her a curfew," Evan said desperately.

"Until you guys can knuckle down and prove we can let you out of the house, curfew on school-nights is midnight," John said, raising his voice over the protests. "One a.m. for weekends. If you can prove you're trustworthy enough, your mom and I might consider allowing you a later curfew in future."

"How come Sean never had a curfew?" Doug spat spitefully. "He did tons of stuff you guys don't even know about when he was in high school."

"That's what you think," Regina arched one eyebrow. "Sean's already paid his dues." Sean made a short little nod that might have been agreement. "And things were different when Sean was in high-school."

"Yeah, Chibs the sh—"

"Be very careful, Douglas," John growled softly, the look in his eyes like a Doberman ready to pounce.

"And don't think your father and I won't be enforcing your curfew," Regina said, gazing around. Rose shrank further into the sofa. "You think you've been grounded before! Just test me! You guys'd better get used to changes around here."

"Dad!" Evan said, his expression making it evident he was set on making one last plea of desperation.

"You're the last person who should try to argue with me on this one, Ev," John said firmly. "It's because of your behaviour last night your mother and I are having to enforce such measures."

"Thanks a lot," Doug said under his breath. Rose flamed up and shrank as far into the sofa as possible. Finn hit him around the back of the head again. Rose had thought Doug hated her; she didn't want to think how she would be treated now that she had indirectly caused John and Regina to think a curfew necessary.

"Alright, everyone, let's eat," Regina said.

Though they hadn't spoken a word to each other, Rose was sure they'd had some telepathic conference in the time it took to get from the living-room to the kitchen, because when the pizzas were taken out of the oven, the only pieces left for her when the herd had dissolved were burned, devoid of toppings, or full of air bubbles. She sat down between Finn and Miller—who had decided to switch from his seat next to Doug, for some reason—and poured some Hidden Valley Ranch onto her plate, and set the bottle back in its proper place.

Finn caught her eye, frowned at her plate, and switched up one of her slices of burnt veggie pizza with one of his juicy margarita slices. "Thanks," Rose mumbled.

"Hey, Finn, hands off!" Ian cackled loudly; Rose flushed hotly and tucked her chin down; she licked her lips and reached for her soda, took a sip, and avoided everyone's eyes as she ate. The meal was almost silent; only John and Regina chatted easily, and Caleb and Ian argued over who had the most pepperoni slices on their pizza. Rose felt gamma-rays of hate emanating from more than one of the guys, and retreated to her bedroom to do her homework.


A.N.: Please review.