Chapter Text
Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.
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STORY TRIGGER WARNING: implied sexual assault/strong language/violence/drug use/adult themes/smut. (If it happened in Sons of Anarchy, it can happen here.)
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The quote that inspired this story:
" My shit was crazy, Tara. That 'I gotta be with you every minute or I'm gonna kill myself' type of crazy’! Look… the way I feel about you hasn't changed!"
- Jax Teller to Tara Knowles (S1E12)
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Foreword:
This is not a story about love at first sight, considering the first time they laid eyes on each other, they were both still in diapers, although neither one of them could possibly even remember that.
This is not a story about love at first touch either, since they played together on the playground during their younger years, too, with not a spark in sight between them at the time.
As a matter of fact, they've seen and touched each other countless times over the years since they were little.
Bumped into each other in the hallway, and have shared countless classes and teachers since Kindergarten, all through junior high, and now high school.
Brushed against each other or met several times in passing while fighting their way through the crowd at some random house party just in the last year alone.
All that in blissful unawareness about how much they will mean to one another one day in the not-so-distant future.
So yeah, this isn't one of those kinds of love stories at all.
This is a story full of teenage angst, big feelings, young love, and heartbreak.
This is the story of Tara and Jax falling madly in love!
X
Piney is the first of them to notice the flashing lights of the Charming police cars way off in the distance, while both teenage boys are still too distracted by and lost in their conversation about the latest horror movies currently available at the local rental place downtown.
On a whim, he decides to make that left turn and heads down that road to further investigate, instead of heading straight home. His old pickup truck slowly approaches the scene near the end of the street, and a sickening feeling begins to fester in the pit of his stomach when he recognizes the house of a friend where some crime has apparently taken place tonight.
"What’s going on?" Jax asks, giving the much older man beside him a glance, but before Piney can answer, Opie quickly chimes in, alarmed. "Oh shit, Dad, that's the Knowles’ place."
Fuck, Opie’s right, Jax realizes. "Knowles?" He can’t stop the name from slipping out as it dawns on him, too. He's been too wrapped up in his own head, too distracted to notice until Opie’s words just now, even though he knows where she lives, just as he knows where most of his classmates live. "Tara Knowles." He says her name out loud, more to himself than to actually take part in this conversation, because he’s had a crush on her for as long as he can remember.
"I know," Piney grumbles in answer to them both and quickly puts the truck in park, his eyes glancing over in the boys' direction for the first time since he spotted the flashing lights. "You two stay put, you hear me." There is an old, familiar warning tone to his voice that both teenagers know better than to argue at any given moment, so they just nod their heads instead.
Piney walks as fast as his big frame allows him to as he approaches the Chief of Police, Wayne Unser, and is already nodding his head in greeting when he says, "Chief."
"Piney." Wayne greets him in return.
"What the hell happened?" Piney gestures his hand toward the house, not wasting another minute on small talk, and gets straight to the point.
Wayne eyes him wearily for a moment, but at the end, falters as expected. "Break-in, Knowles is out of town, business trip, his daughter was home alone, perp attacked her, but got away after she fought him off."
"Is she alright?" Piney pipes up in concern.
"Yeah." Wayne nods, but then elaborates. "I mean, she's shook up, of course, but she’s lucky, no real damage done, if you know what I mean?" He gives Piney a pointed look, and they both nod their heads in agreement, before Wayne adds. "I appreciate you stopping by, but we've got this under control, so-"
"What about Tara?" Piney interrupts him.
"What about her?" Wayne replies rather dumbfounded, even though he has a pretty good idea what Piney is getting at.
"Her old man's out of town, she can’t stay here… not after this?" Piney asks with the most innocent expression he can muster.
But Wayne can see right through him, and steps closer to ensure nobody will overhear what he's about to say next. "Charming PD's got this under control, Piney. I don't need the Club involved, getting all up and arms and whatnot. Every once in a while, I can use a win, you know, to keep this badge that keeps this... this relationship going. Besides… we don't even know if it's the same guy."
Piney has to bite his tongue, which is a hard thing for him to do under any circumstances, but he knows that if he says out loud what he really wants to say, it will get him nowhere tonight. He recognizes that in this instance, diplomacy is needed. "Listen, Knowles and I go way back, and his kid is friends with my kid. She's been over at our place a million times. I think the girl might be more comfortable around some familiar faces until her old man gets back, instead of camping out at the Police station, don't you think?"
Wayne shakes his head, huffing in exasperation. "Little Missy's really shook up; she's still giving her statement to one of my female deputies right now. And I mean no disrespect to your kid and you, but I think under the current circumstances it ain't too farfetched to think the girl would be more comfortable around other females, if you know what I'm getting at? And last I've heard, Mary and you are on the outs again."
"You said she fought him off?" Piney re-inquires, fearing the worst as he wonders if maybe he misunderstood earlier.
"She did," Wayne reassures him once more, but quickly adds. "Doesn't mean she ain't scared. She's just a fifteen-year-old girl, for Christ's sake."
He lets out a staggered breath and shakes his head once more, before he finally dares to look back to meet Piney's eyes. "Looks like a goddamn twister touched down in that living room in there, little thing that she is, she put up one hell of a fight, I tell you that."
"Good for her," Piney adds, feeling a small spark of pride for a girl he hardly knows.
"Yeah." Wayne nods, and clears his throat as his mind goes back to the other female victims who haven't been this lucky in the recent home invasions that have been plaguing Charming over the last couple of weeks. "Good for her." He adds, too.
Both men quiet down for a moment, their eyes glued to the house while they’re both contemplating their next move, until Piney gives it one last try. "How about you ask her?"
Wayne looks over at Piney, a puzzled look that is quickly answered when Piney elaborates. "Let her pick where she'll be more comfortable until her father gets back. With Opie and me? Or with you and your gaggle of deputies down at the station? Let the girl make up her own mind."
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Opie pulls two big towels from the dryer, the thickest and fluffiest looking ones he can find, yet neither one of them is very soft anymore since his mother left again, and his father doesn't see the need to invest in such trivial things as fabric softener.
He takes a second to inspect them for stains that might’ve not come out in the wash, before he grips them both in one hand, and slams the dryer door shut with a loud clang on his way out of the laundry room.
He hurries down the hall toward the bathroom, his footsteps heavy and loud with every step he takes on the worn-down hardwood floor, until he comes to a sudden stop and lets his knuckles rap across the wooden surface in front of him.
The door creaks when Tara opens it, still fully dressed, looking a complete mess, a little peaked, maybe nauseous even, but the water in the shower is already running in the background, and with the way he’s towering over her, she has to look up to even meet his eyes.
"Hey,” then, “here," Opie says unceremoniously as he holds out the two towels for her, his face as much a blank slate as he can muster at the moment, because the last thing she needs right now is pity. "They're clean." He adds in case she's wondering.
"Thanks," Tara answers in a rather uncharacteristic small voice, a faint smile tugging on the corner of her busted-up lip, and she winces at the pain for just a second before she recovers and musters up a stoic expression again instead.
She's usually not this shy around him, the opposite, really, and he can't help but wonder just what exactly she's been through earlier tonight to make her seem almost like a totally different person to him now.
"You're welcome." He answers, and tries to muster a smile, not sure if it looks genuine, before Tara closes the bathroom door in his face and clicks the lock in place, too.
He turns and is just about to step away, when the lock clicks and the door opens once more with another creak. He looks back just in time to see her step into the doorframe, a questioning look on her face now. "Do you have any hair conditioner?"
"Shit," Opie replies, scratching the back of his head as if in thought for a second, even though he knows that since his mom left, conditioner isn't something his father spends money on anymore either. "Don't think we do. Sorry."
"That's okay." Tara nods her head, and before he can say anything else, she has already closed and locked the door behind her again.
Opie steps into his room, where he finds Jax stretched out and leaning back in the oversized bean bag, tossing a baseball in the air overhead and catching it again repeatedly. He's clearly lost in his own thoughts about what happened.
An eerie silence stretches out amongst the two friends; all the banter in the truck earlier, before Tara joined them, has vanished, while Opie's looking through the mess in his closet, trying to find the other set of bedding that he rarely, if ever, uses.
Once he finds it, he walks over to the bed, clean sheets, pillowcase, and blanket in hand, tossing them carelessly on top of the magazines that sit in a pile next to his bed, before he now starts stripping his old sheets and pillows off the bed.
"What do you think they're gonna do?" Jax finally asks out loud what both of them have been thinking, curiosity but also underlying worry evident in his voice when he speaks.
Opie twists around to look back at his best friend, who's no longer tossing the ball about but is absentmindedly tracing the red stitching with his thumb instead, turning the white globe over and over again in his hand.
"What do you think?" Opie replies, eyebrows raised, and the look he's giving Jax makes it clear it's a rhetorical question, no need to answer or further elaborate. The Club will handle it, one way or another.
"Yeah." Jax just nods, because that pretty much says it all.
"I can't fucking wait to patch in." He mumbles under his breath moments later, before he begins to toss the ball up in the air again, a vain attempt to distract himself from what happened tonight to a girl he's had his eyes on for some time now. It’s fucked up, but he can’t help but wonder what whould’ve happened if only he had made a move on her sooner. Maybe she wouldn't have been home alone tonight?
But his thoughts are sidetracked again when they hear the front door to the house open, followed by the commotion in the living room that makes it clear the other members of the Club have arrived.
Jax gets up from the bean bag chair, scrambling to his feet, and Opie abandons his mission to put new linens on his bed like his father instructed him to. They both head toward the living room instead, getting their usual greeting of slaps on the back and the mockingly inappropriate banter reserved only for them and dished out by their so-called 'uncles', to which they technically hold no real relation at all.
Shortly after, Opie's sent off to let Tara know his father's friends have arrived, and she assures him that she's almost ready, while steam pours out of the bathroom door when she opens it just enough to speak face to face with the much taller teenager.
She shuts the door once more, and digs through the overnight bag she packed that is sitting atop the closed toilet seat lid in search of her hairbrush. It's not easy to brush through the long, wet strands without having used some conditioner, and she makes a mental note to always bring her own should she ever make another overnight trip somewhere.
Tara looks down on herself, in the most literal sense, when she takes in the clothes she's put on, and feels frustrated with the choice she made when the female deputy helped her pack a bag in a hurry to get out of the house, picking clothes straight out of the clean laundry basket that sat on a chair in the kitchen.
So now, in her too baggy gray sweats and the black oversized t-shirt, featuring none other than Johnny Cash, which actually belongs to her dad, she's feeling like she looks every bit the part, like the proverbial poster child of a battered woman, and she can't help but hate it.
But on the other hand, slipping the clothes she was wearing, while she got attacked, back on, is out of the question, too. The shirt is partially torn and stretched, and she couldn't wait to get them off, because there is just something about those clothes that make her feel downright dirty, to the point that she suddenly picks them off of the floor to shove them angrily in the way too small trash can that sits beside the toilet instead.
She never wants to see those goddamn clothes again. Wishes she could light a match to them right now!
She glances back in the mirror one last time, licking her tongue over the cut on her lip, wiping at her blotchy face, and her red-rimmed eyes, wishing it wasn't so goddamn obvious that she's been crying in here, but there's no denying it, not the way she looks right now.
She pushes her still wet, long brown hair out of her face, takes in a deep breath, and for the millionth time tonight wishes her dad was home, because he'd just know what to do to make her feel safe again, and then wills herself to believe that she made the right choice coming here tonight, instead of going down to the police station.
She can't say that she knows a whole lot about the Sons of Anarchy, or SAMCRO, as some people call them. She just knows the usual rumors and speculations that always circle around a small town like Charming, some of them good, some not.
But there's never been anything that she witnessed with her own two eyes that gives her a reason to feel scared of them; if anything, the opposite is the case. What she does know is that Piney Winston is a part of it all, and that he is friends with her father, and he seems like a nice guy. A bit of a drunk, and a bit rough around the edges, just like her dad, but nice nonetheless.
Opie, his only son, is really nice, too. She’s known him since they were little, and even though it isn't like they are close or anything, she can honestly say that she feels like she’s gotten to know him a little more by now to feel comfortable around him. After all, she's spent countless hours sitting on the couch with him, watching music videos on MTV, or playing video games, while Piney and her dad hung out, laughing, drinking, and reminiscing about times in the war. So in a weird way, that makes her trust Opie the most out of everyone else in this place.
And then there is Jax Teller, Opie's best friend through thick and thin for as long as Tara can remember. For as much time as she’s spent over here, she’s been surprised how little she’s actually seen of him, considering at school, parties, or even around town, Opie and he are always together, and seem practically joined at the hip.
Just like Opie, she’s known Jax since they were little, and although it might be shallow to say so but like Opie’s height is the first thing that stands out about him, what stands out the most about Jax is his ridiculous good looks. It’s literally impossible not to notice how handsome he is, and it’s no surprise she’s seen countless girls usually swooning around him wherever he goes.
She really can’t blame them, though, because besides his looks, he's always funny, down to earth, and has never been anything but nice to her. She’s never told anyone, nor would she ever admit it out loud, but she’s always had a little crush on him. But that was before.
That said, unlike Opie, she can count the times she’s spent one-on-one time with Jax on one hand, and although they have the whole dead parent thing in common and have shared in each other’s misery over that, other than that, she doesn’t feel like she knows him much at all.
What she does know, though, and has even seen it with her own eyes, is that, for whatever reason, Jax seems to love a good fight. A good fist fight, that is, because as much as he’s a flirt with the girls, he’s hot-headed and all too easily gets into the occasional fistfight with any guy that so much as looks at him the wrong way.
Aside from all that, and thanks to the ever-present gossip in this small town, she also knows that his dad, who passed away, was the guy who started the Sons of Anarchy Club, and that his stepdad, Clay Morrow, is the current president, whom she might be about to meet.
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Jax’s stepdad isn’t here after all, although that has nothing to do with why Tara feels timid at first when she's greeted by the rambunctious lot of men in the Winston living room. The instant they lay eyes on her and notice the cut on her lip, their tone and demeanor change, and from one second to the next, the gruff-looking, mostly older men try to make her feel more at ease and comfortable to get her to speak her mind in front of them.
First impressions can be deceiving, Tara thinks to herself as her eyes drift from one tattooed biker to the next, when they usher her to a comfortable spot on the sofa and fawn over her like she holds the key, or rather the last missing piece to a puzzle they've been trying to solve for weeks.
She's a smart girl, and it doesn't take long for her to understand their intentions when they press her on the details of the break-in to her home, and every smallest piece of information she can manage to conjure back up in her head to describe what the intruder looked like.
Their eagerness to get to the bottom of it all, soothes her in a way she wasn’t expecting. It makes her feel a little bit safer knowing these rough and gruff-looking men are on her side and are trying to help her during a horrific evening, while her dad is a plane and car ride away.
Tara's got a feeling that from here on out, she'll never look at them the same, when she sees the fleet of motorcycles rush past her down the streets of Charming.
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Meanwhile, the boys have been sent back to Opie’s room, and Opie has gone straight back to the task of fixing up his bed for Tara, while Jax leans against the dresser, refusing to help, even though he's feeling antsy at the moment and it’d probably take his mind off things.
He's on edge, and to Opie’s obvious annoyance, he’s tapping his Zippo lighter to an imaginary beat against the skull ring he’s wearing with one hand while looking through one of his friend's magazines, which he's pulled from the pile near the bed.
The scene that is currently taking place in Piney's living room is nothing too unusual. The Sons questioning someone for intel is a common occurrence for the boys, but so is being shushed away, told to keep quiet, and sent to their room like they are still little children, just when things are starting to get interesting.
Both of them hate this so much. After all, they aren't little kids anymore, and if it wasn't for their still slightly youthful facial features they could easily be mistaken for grown men, because at six foot four, Opie is already standing as tall as his father, and Jax, at six foot has also outgrown the majority of his fellow sophomores before the last school year ended just a few days ago.
And thanks to a strict weight lifting and workout regimen that both have followed since eighth grade, at the tender age of sixteen, they both not only stand just as tall, but are almost as strong as most of the men currently residing in that living room just down the hall from them, too.
But besides all of that, this just feels… different. Getting shut out when it comes to a classmate, Tara Knowles, a girl whom they’ve practically known their whole lives, doesn’t sit right. And as much as he loves his uncles, they’re not exactly used to talking to teenage girls, so if there was ever a time when Opie and he should be involved, this would be it. They should be out there with her, for nothing if not moral support, while she’s getting interrogated by SAMCRO.
Jax wishes he could turn his brain off, make his mind stop wondering and worrying about everything, about Tara. He wishes he had known what to say to her earlier, but the truth is he's been too shell-shocked himself, not just at the news of what happened, but at how she looked when Piney brought her back to the truck with him. She looked nothing like the girl he's been secretly pining after for a while now, and it broke his heart as much as it rendered him speechless in that moment.
In yet another attempt to distract himself, he turns the magazine he's holding sideways, folding the top part open, but letting the bottom part of the center poster fall and unfold on its own, before he looks it over from top to bottom with an appreciative smirk. "Where are you gonna hide all these, huh? I can take 'em off your hands, you know." He tries his best to crack a real smile for the first time since they pulled up to the Knowles’ home earlier, and turns the magazine he's looking through toward his friend for Opie to see.
"Would you cut that shit out?" Opie lets out a frustrated grunt, feeling just as sickened by what happened to Tara. He snatches the Playboy out of Jax's hand and tosses it under the bed, before he begins to kick the whole pile until they've all disappeared out of sight. Letting his agitation out on the stack of magazines instead of his best but obnoxious friend and the fucked up situation that's so out of his control.
He starts to gather some of his dirty clothes off the ground, along with the dirty sheets and blanket, and begins to shove them all into the closet in an attempt to hide them out of sight as well.
The door opens without so much as a warning knock, and Piney steps in, taking in the remaining mess around the room, which isn't all that bad considering how it looked just moments ago, yet the older man still curses under his breath. "Jesus, would you boys clean this shit up?"
The boys share an annoyed glance that Piney seems to miss completely, but they remain quiet, and the older man quickly reaches into his pocket, pulls out a handful of bills, and hands them to his son, before he adds gruffly. "Here, order a pizza or something, I don't think she's eaten yet."
"Sure thing, Pop," Opie replies, counting the money his dad just handed him, but he can't bite his tongue, even though he already knows he won't be told much, if anything, in return. "Where are you going?"
"Got some Club business to handle, Son," Piney replies per usual, but for a moment there's a flash of something in his eyes that neither Jax nor Opie seem to recognize, before the man glances cautiously over his shoulder as he steps further into the room and quietly closes the bedroom door behind him.
Piney runs a hand over his chin, as if deep in thought for a moment, before he finally meets their eyes. His focus goes back and forth between the two teenage boys standing before him as he speaks. "Listen up, Clay and Gemma took Tig and the prospects with them up to Rogue River, so we're already shorthanded, which means I'm counting on the two of you to help keep an eye on the girl. Don't let her out of your sight, you understand?" There is a seriousness to the tone of his voice that couldn't be missed, and the atmosphere in the room practically changes along with his words.
Jax and Opie glance at each other, both with a mixture of intrigue, but also puzzlement in their eyes, and Opie's the first to shrug his shoulders. "Sure, okay, Pop."
Opie feels a sense of excitement rush through him, yet does not really understand why they're being brought into the loop all of a sudden. "But..." He glances back at Jax, wondering if he's getting that same eerie feeling, too, before he meets his father's eyes again. "I mean, what's going on?"
Piney clears his throat and holds up four fingers at the same moment he begins to speak. "Four women have been attacked in home invasions over the past month, not a single one of them made it. Left for dead in their own homes after he was done… hurting them. Tara would've been number five. She's seen this guy, can identify him... so like I said, don't let her out of your sight, keep her safe. Think you two knuckleheads can manage that?"
"Of course, Piney." Jax chimes in for the first time, pushing away from the dresser and rising to full height, like a soldier called to action. His tongue-tied reaction earlier might not have been one of his finer moments, but he's more than ready to make up for it now. He can protect Tara; he knows he can. "Nothing touches her." He says confidently. It's a line he's heard Tig utter to Clay at least a thousand times about keeping his mother safe, and deep down, he's reveling in the feeling of using the words himself for the first time about Tara.
"Don't worry, we've got this, Dad," Opie adds, and at that, Piney gives them both an approving nod.
X
The Sons disappear just as quickly as they appeared, leaving her back to her own scary thoughts in someone else's house.
So Tara sits rather awkwardly on Piney's comfy old recliner, her bare feet pulled up on the chair under her, a cup of tea in her hand that's no longer hot, barely even warm at this point. It keeps her hands busy, though, keeps her from fidgeting too much, so she continues to hold the cup even though she has no intentions of drinking it.
She's so lost in her own thoughts that she doesn't even notice Jax stepping into the doorframe, leaning against it, and watching her, until he suddenly speaks up. "You doing okay, darlin'?"
She looks up at him now, meeting his eyes and the innocent smile he's giving her, and despite the gravity of her current situation, she can't help but smirk at him a little when she recalls his words just now. "Did you really just call me darling?" She knows it’s probably stupid to even have this conversation, but she welcomes any distraction that’ll take her mind off her more depressing thoughts.
That is not at all how Jax expected her to react, so it catches him off guard, and he lets a chuckle escape against his better judgment. "Yeah... sorry, force of habit, I guess." He swipes a hand down his face as he steps further into the room, eyeing her wearily sitting across from him.
He takes a seat on the armrest of the sofa, and his face is more serious again as he really gets a chance to look at her now in the light of the living room, instead of just the few obscured but haunting glimpses he got of her earlier. It was already dark out when Piney kicked him and Opie out of the truck and ordered them to sit back in the truck bed instead, so she could climb into his seat without being gawked at, and not be bothered by the two of them.
Then she disappeared straight into the bathroom when they got here, but now here she is, and she somehow looks even ten times worse than he originally thought, and that’s saying something.
Christ, he'd be lying if he said it doesn't piss him off seeing her in this fragile-looking state, because even though they’re not exactly friends, they don’t run in the same friend circles, he knows this girl. Knows her well enough to realize that this isn't who she is at all.
Tara Knowles is outspoken, she's confident, and in her own way, he’d even consider her part of the popular crowd. Last school year, she was a Charming High cheerleader for crying out loud. He can still vividly picture her walking down the hall in her cheerleading outfit, laughing, and talking to her friends without a care in the world. She undoubtedly caught his eye countless times in that little cheerleading get-up, and had him turning around to get a good second look as she walked away.
"You okay though?" He asks again after realizing she avoided answering him the first time he asked, but he’s not surprised when she simply nods her head while the haunted look in her eyes tells a whole different story.
She's not okay, far from it, that much is fucking clear, but if she's not up for sharing, he won't pry. And who can blame her? It's not like they're friends or anything. He knows her, knows who she is, and vice versa. And yeah, he always thought she was hot, maybe even a little out of his league if he's being completely honest, but all that considered, they haven't exactly spent much time around one another, or hung out together like this... until now!
Opie appears in the doorframe now, a little notepad in hand, and to Tara's relief, he changes the subject altogether, freeing her from Jax's scrutinizing gaze. "You hungry? We were gonna order some pizza."
She's not hungry at all, simply has no appetite after her ordeal, but she also knows it's just her nerves, and if her dad was here, he'd probably make her eat something, so she reluctantly agrees, telling only half a lie. "Not real hungry, but I'll have a slice or two." She shrugs her shoulders at the last word, as if to come off as more at ease, which she doesn't feel at all.
"Preference on toppings? Anything you can't stand at all?" Opie asks, tapping his pen against the little notepad in his hand, coming off either nervous or impatient, which she's not really sure.
But Tara just shrugs her shoulders again, she won't make a fuss and will just pick off anything she doesn't want, it's not like she feels much like eating in the first place. "No, I'm fine with whatever. I'm easy."
A smirk appears for a fraction of a second on Jax's face, he's quick to hide it, biting down on his own lip and turning his head away from her toward Opie behind him, but she's caught it, and it almost makes her want to shrink further into the seat in embarrassment.
"I'm easy, too,” Jax replies to a question Opie hasn't even directed at him, and Tara can feel the blush rising in her cheeks, wishing she hadn't given him a chance to tease her.
His reputation as a flirt precedes him, and she can even remember having been on the receiving end of what other people call his Teller-charm . But right now, under the current circumstances, she can’t help but feel rather annoyed by it.
"Alright," Opie replies clearly unamused as well, shaking his head at something, before he disappears back into the kitchen around the corner where the phone is mounted on the wall, when Jax turns his attention back to her now, noting the untouched cup of tea in her hand, before he asks. "Want something else to drink?"
Tara shakes her head no.
He looks over his shoulder at the blanket draped over the back of the sofa. "You cold? Want a blanket?"
Again, Tara shakes her head no, but Jax rambles on, feeling slightly guilty for making her blush, so now he's trying to make up for his insensitivity. "You know, if there's anything you want, need, or… whatever, just let us know, alright?" He sounds sweet, and she can tell he is being genuine this time when he looks over at her, fiddling with a lighter he pulled out of his pocket moments ago, and Tara simply nods her understanding.
He seems almost nervous to her now, sitting there, not sure what to say or do with himself, and strangely, his uneasiness makes her feel more at ease, like she's not the only one feeling awkward in the room for the first time tonight.
A silent beat or two passes, and they both look at everything but each other, taking in the countless knick-knacks Piney has sitting on every inch of free space around the room, when Jax finally tries to break the ice with small talk when he asks out loud. "You’re a Junior, right?" He wants to groan inwardly at his stupid attempt to pry some words out of her, because he already knows the answer, knows she's going to be a Junior, just like Opie and him. But damn, what else is he supposed to say?
On one hand, he knows she was assaulted tonight, so it feels more than wrong to even try to flirt with her, but on the other hand, she’s here and he can’t bring himself to pass up the chance to talk to her, and to find out more about her. As fucked up as that might be.
"Yeah, Junior,” she nods, bringing him back out of his thoughts when she smiles a little as she adds, “after the summer break."
Tara bites her lip for a second, contemplating, before she decides to remind him, "We actually had AP English together last semester."
They've actually had several of the same teachers and classes over the years, but AP English is the most recent one she can easily recall.
Alright, Jax thinks, because she brought up more school shit, and he can work with that.
He snaps his fingers as if he just now remembered the same thing, even though he remembers every class they’ve ever had together, and she joins him as they both blurt out "Mrs. Rice" at the same time.
They nod in unison before Tara surprises him even further when she confesses a suspicion she has about their teacher. "I don't think she likes me."
"What?” Jax chuckles at first. “Why’d you think that?" He adds without missing a beat, relieved that they’ve already found something to talk about that doesn't seem so utterly forced.
Tara shrugs again, she's doing that a lot tonight, and meets his blue eyes that are focused solely on her now, making her almost want to hide away again, because a boy shouldn't be allowed to be this pretty to look at while simultaneously expecting her to actually answer his questions. "I don't know, I think that class just isn't my strong suit."
Jax smirks a bit at that, finally settling all the way onto the sofa, leaning back, and propping his feet up on the coffee table, clearly much more relaxed now. "It's AP, and I’m pretty sure you got nothing but A’s, so something about it must suit you just fine, darlin’."
There's that word again, darling . Tara can't tell if he’s teasing her by calling her that, or if that might be his way of flirting, but the way it flowed so easily from his lips this time makes her forget to call him out on it.
She leans to the side and finally releases the cup of tea she's been holding this entire time from her death grip, putting it on the small side table beside her, before she looks back at him and crosses her arms in front of herself. "I think I just do better with facts and… factual stuff, you know, like science, and math, like concrete stuff, that sort of thing. With the books she picked last year, and had us write those god-awful essays on them, it just gives you too many different ways to interpret what's going on, and I don't like that." She shakes her head along with her last words. "And God forbid she doesn't agree with your interpretation, then you're screwed."
"Hmmm." Jax looks at her, almost puzzled. "That's my favorite part, the interpretation, I mean you can pretty much come up with anything, bullshit your way through it as long as you can back it up with something in the story or book."
"I don't know. I mean, yeah, I got A’s, but I had to work my ass off for those A’s." Tara shakes her head to herself, meeting his eyes again. "It's just not that easy for me. I guess not everyone's as good at bullshitting as you." She adds with a little shy smirk, glad for the lightheartedness of this conversation, and to her relief, he smirks right back, too. It amazes her how easy he is to talk to.
"You've got that right." He agrees suddenly and takes her out of her thoughts. "Bullshitting is a skill in itself, but hey, I'm free to tutor if you want, baby." He opens his arms in a welcoming gesture and gives her the biggest tooth-baring grin she's ever seen on him.
But before Tara can reply with some smartass comment in return, Opie appears back in the room. "Giovanni's running behind on deliveries, said it'll take up to an hour, but we can pick it up sooner. So, I'm gonna go get those pizzas real quick?"
"Alright." Jax nods and chimes in, content in his spot on the couch, not moving a muscle. "Pick up a movie, too, man. Something funny." Before they stopped at Tara’s house earlier, they’d planned to pick up a couple of horror movies, but considering what happened, something funny undoubtedly seems like the way to go now.
Opie looks back at her as if he's just about to say something when Tara beats him to it. "Can I come with you?"
"Um..." Opie seems a bit unsure for a moment, looking from her back to Jax for a second, before he nods at her in return. "Yeah, sure."
Tara gets up without missing a beat, slipping on her shoes that are sitting in front of the recliner, before she starts following Opie out of the room.
For a moment, Jax hesitates as he sits there a little put off and sulking, but then he quickly gets up, too. "Guess we're all going then." He mumbles under his breath just as he leaves the living room to catch up with them, falling in step right behind her a second later as they all trail after Opie out the front door.
Part of Jax gets it, gets why she wants to leave, because Tara’s been through a lot tonight, and he has since found out that Opie and she have apparently been hanging out, and she knows Opie better than him.
But damn, he can't recall a girl ever dismissing him in the middle of a conversation to leave with Opie instead. And even though he can never admit such a thing to his best friend out loud, it bothers him somehow that Tara just did that.
Tara Knowles, the girl he’s been crushing on, choosing Opie's company over his... it fucking stings, to say the least, and it definitely bruised his ego just a little, too!
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Author's Note: This is supposed to be a prequel story to 'You, and Me, and Our Boys' (but they can be read as a stand-alone), and also to the events that took place on the show. It's my version of Jax and Tara falling in love as teenagers, and I think my idea is different from most stories that I've seen over the years. I'm posting this first chapter/intro to see if there's still interest in this kind of story, since there are so many teenage Jax and Tara stories out there to choose from already.
I'd really appreciate it so much if you'd leave me a review/comment with your thoughts. Thanks in advance for your input.